The Wizard and The Super Soldier
by DragoCygnusthefifth
Summary: 2 Years Post War. After the Battle of Hogwarts, Ron betrays Harry and Hermione, and they are left on the run for two years. After being caught and escaping Azkaban, Harry decides to do the greatest vanishing act in the world, going through the Veil. On the other side, he meets a man that desperately needs help, and makes great changes to Harry's life. MOD! Harry Slash *On Hiatus*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Yay, another story. Sorrya about the delay for my other stories, but I will make sure to get to working on them soon. Now I have had this stuck in my head for the past month and a half and so decided to finally write it down. So here it is, my new story.**

 **Also. As stated in the summary, there will be Slash, and it will be Harry/Steve. So those thatdont like slash, turn back now.**

 _ **-Line-Break-**_

Harry stood in front of the Veil, wondering where his life had gone wrong.

It had been two years since that fateful day, the Battle of Hogwarts, where many lives were lost, all for nothing. Within weeks of defeating Voldemort, Ron had literally dug his own grave when he had declared Harry to be another Dark Lord in training, and how he had known for years that Harry had turned Dark.

Of course, Harry had the gut feeling that he should have known that something like this would have happened. His former best friend had always been a jealous prat, always wanting the limelight that Harry had never wanted. It had been obvious in fourth year when Ron had turned on him after his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire. And then, with the comments he had said when they had been hunting for horcruxes before he had left, had left a scar on their friendship that would never heal.

But the Ministry had been in chaos, spy's and unmarked followers of Voldemort still had a heavy influence within the Wizengamot. And so, with the backing of the Ministry, and the Prophet, inciting the public in an uproar, all of them not at Hogwarts during the Battle were now clamoring for his head. And so, it was with those words that Harry and the survivors of Hogwarts fled from Britain in an attempt to live without prosecution.

It was no surprise to Harry that everything had gone to hell in a hand basket. He had unintentionally told the whole of Wizarding Britain that he was the Master of Death when he had won the Elder Wand from Voldemort during their duel. Harry sighed, rubbing his thumb over the now repaired surface of the Resurrection Stone.

At first he hadn't wanted the title, hadn't wanted to be the all-powerful Master of Death. But when he had seen the devastation that Voldemort had caused to England while on his mission to hunt down the horcruxes, he believed that he needed to, if only to defeat Voldemort once and for all. And it didn't help that it had felt right to go after the Hallows, as if fate were guiding him to his destiny.

Of course, he would rather hex Fates ass into oblivion, but that's an entirely other matter.

Using his newly acquired Metamorphmagus powers to hide, courtesy of the Hallows, Harry had been able to live a life of solitude on the Northern shores of France, still close enough to Britain so he could listen to the incoming news, and still out of the way for Britain to do anything, he was living a life of peace for close to two years. Of course, nothing goes the way he would want it to, as the British Ministry had somehow managed to track him down and arrested him.

His surviving friends from the Battle of Hogwarts had launched a daring rescue attempt, which ended with Azkaban Prison being leveled to the ground, Harry, and now Neville, Hermione, Fred and George, were on the run from the Ministry. It had been a surprise to all five of them that they had managed to get this far into the Ministry without anyone finding them at all.

As the only remaining people Harry would call friends crowded around him, he couldn't help but smile. These were the only people who had always been there for him, always helped comfort him when he needed it, and had always provided a helping hand.

Neville he had befriended because the formerly shy boy had reminded him of himself so much. The Longbottom heir, now Lord, had quickly become Harry's first best friend, despite what the traitor Ron Weasley would ever say. The young lord had been nothing but kind to the orphan, and Harry's instinctual efforts to always please those around him had been slowly eroded away as time passed, as Neville had never required anything from Harry, and had always been pleased with Harry for simply being his first friend. They treated each other like brothers, as if they were twins, born a day apart, and would do anything for eachother.

Hermione had been his second friend to make once he had entered the Wizarding World. As they grew up at Hogwarts, he had come to see her as his sister, the one he had always wanted, and the one he had seen standing alongside him in the Mirror of Erised. She was now effectively an orphan, having had obliviated her parents and sending them to Australia when the war had started getting rough. Taking pity on her, when they were in the Forest of Dean after the attack from Nagini, he had offered to do a blood adoption ritual, adopting her into the Potter family as his sister. She had quickly agreed and had done the ritual without a hitch

The Twins were a slightly different story. Harry had been cautious of them first, due to their infamous pranking status, but had been quick to change that when they had avoided pranking him in an effort to know him, not the boy-who-lived. He had endeared them to himself even more upon joining them in their pranking escapades, and even funding their dream joke shop had helped wondrously. He had offered them the blood adoption as well, as he saw them as brothers as well, but they had refused, saying "they didn't need a ritual to tell them that they were brothers."

"I'm going to miss you guys" Harry said, looking around to his only remaining friends.

"We know you will Harry, but do you really have to go?" Fred and George asked simultaneously, making Harry smile sadly. He didn't know when he would see them again, if at all.

"Yes I do" Harry replied. "But I know for a fact that I won't die from going through the veil, to where ever it is it leads."

"How so, Harry?" Neville asked, looking at the veil warily. It had a bad reputation throughout history. "No one's ever come back through before, why will that change now?"

"The Hallows, they… whisper things to me, important information that I should know being the Master of Death" Harry explained quickly, knowing they didn't have much time. "They have already told me that I cannot die, so that's one thing. But they are saying that I am the only one who would survive the trip, and that there is someone on the other side who needs my help. And besides, it would help everyone to lay low if I'm not around."

After he finished his explanation, he dug around in his pocket, and pulled out a small box. Resizing it with a touch of his wand revealed it to be a slim, ebony wood box with the Potter family crest engraved on top. Opening it up, he revealed five pocket watches, two in gold and two in silver, each with engravings and with a slim chain attached, laying in a bed of black silk. He handed Neville one that was made of silver, with an engraving of a tree with gems of orange and yellow embedded representing the leaves in the middle of autumn. He gave Hermione one made of gold, with an engraving of an otter, with brilliant amethysts in the place of the eyes. Harry handed a gold one to Fred and a silver one to George, both with identical engravings of foxes, with brilliant sapphire eyes set in each.

Harry was left with a single pocket watch, made of a mix of gold and silver. It had engravings of a stag with brilliant amethyst eyes, a grim with icy sapphire eyes, a wolf with bright yellow eyes, and a doe, with piercing emeralds in the place of the eyes. The Marauders, the good ones, and his mother, always there by his side.

"I got these commissioned by the goblins in the summer before our sixth year" Harry explained at the gob struck looks on his sister and honorary brother's faces. "I was going to give them to you after we had all graduated, and with how everything turned out, I forgot in all the confusion, and though it would be best to give them out now. If you look on the back, you can see tiny etchings on the surface. I got the goblins to put every possible bit of protection that they could onto it, in an effort to keep us safe. Whatever you do, make sure you keep it on you at all times, even when sleeping. It acts as an emergency portkey, sending you straight to Potter Castle, and if you look on the inside of the watch, on the back of the lid, it has a tiny bit of parchment, through which you can send messages to each other. It is also charmed so that only you can remove it from your person, much like a lordship and heirship ring, and even then, only willingly."

Harry then pulled the chain over his head, letting the watch rest just below his chest, under his shirt and Sirius' old leather jacket. The others did the same, hissing a little in pain when they felt their fingers being pricked, and some blood being drawn out, as the watches heated up, recognizing their owners. They didn't question it though, knowing Harry had done what he had for a reason.

"Now, remember the plan" Harry said, hearing Aurors trying to break down the barricaded and warded door. "Get out of the country, take muggle transportation, and go anywhere that doesn't like Britain. Admittedly, that is everywhere, but go somewhere that isn't Europe, okay?"

The other four nodded, also hearing the Aurors attempts to break down the door. They went around the group, each giving Harry their best and to come back soon. When it got to Hermione, she wrapped him in a hug, tears falling from her eyes as she said "Be safe Harry, and get back soon, okay? I don't want to find out that you got yourself killed. Again."

The four friends stood back, activating their new portkeys, being sent back to Potter Castle, leaving Harry alone in front of the veil. Sighing, he lowered the wards he had put in place on the door, readying himself for what was to come. With a loud bang, the door was blasted off of its hinges, flying across the room to shatter into a million pieces on the far wall. In walked a troop of Aurors, fifteen in total, all trained to the highest standards for these kinds of situations. At the front of the troop, was Ronald Weasley, pure unadulterated hatred and anger splashed across his face. Harry knew this would be easy.

"It took you long enough, didn't it, Weasley?" Harry called from where he was in front of the Veil, standing in the line of site of all sixteen Aurors, wand in hand, yet ready to strike when necessary. He needed one of them to blast him into the Veil, so they would believe he was dead. It was a clear guess that the first shot would be Weasley. He had always had a trigger finger. "Maybe you should have gotten that slut of a sister to come with you. We all know how easily she can track me down."

"Don't you dare insult my sister" Weasley bellowed, pointing his wand at Harry, the tip glowing a crimson red. "You were meant to marry her, then leave all of your fortune to her and die, like a good little boy. We were finally going to be rich and famous, Potter, rich and famous thanks to your death. But of course, the old goat Dumbledore just _had_ to let you get your lordships, didn't he. Suddenly, all of our hard work to get you to be an innocent, naïve little boy, willing to do anything for a woman who looked like his mother had crumbled. But this was the only way for everything to be perfect."

"Don't you ever _dare_ insult my grandfather, you fucking bastard" Harry snarled, making the troop of Aurors step back in fear. Weasley was either too stupid or too angry to notice. _Quite possibly both_ Harry thought. "You were never as great as you said you were, Weasley. And your plans were pathetic. I am glad that Grandpa Albus let me get my Lordships when I did, and allowed me to become the man I am today. I think this is the last time we shall see each other, Weasley, so I bid you good day."

Harry had raised his wand during his speech, and incanted _"Bombarda"_ at the wall above the door the Aurors had come in from. As soon as the electric blue spell had left his wand, he lowered it to the group of Aurors and chanted _"Concusso"_ , blasting them multiple times with blasts of air from his wand. All the Aurors were sprawled on the ground, all except for Weasley, who sent a cutting curse to his arm, and a blasting hex to his chest. Harry holstered his wand in an instant, allowing the spells to hit him, hissing in pain as the cutting curse cut deeper than he had thought Weasley was possible of. He felt his body leave the solid surface of the ground, as it flew through the air into the icy coolness of the veil.

For what felt like an eternity, Harry fell, seeing everything and nothing at once. Colours flashed passed past him, every colour imaginable, every colour on the visual spectrum, and every colour on all the others. Colours beyond explanation, colours beyond comprehension. His senses were assaulted from all sides, strange smell, weird noises, horrible, yet at the same time delicious, tastes, the gentle caress of a lover, the throbbing pain of a beating on his skin, and within the colours, his sight was assaulted with images throughout history, seemingly going backwards in time.

He saw events in his own life in reverse, the final duel with Voldemort, Dumbledore falling _up_ the side of the astronomy tower, rather than down when Snape had killed him. He saw Sirius walk out of the Veil, Voldemort returning to the cauldron his body had come out of, Quirrels body reforming from stone, his mother jumping up in front of him as Voldemort walked backwards out of his room.

He saw other events, Pettigrew's betrayal of the Potters, the street he had blown up reforming as the blasting spell had returned to his wand. He saw the Marauders frolicking on the full moon, watching Moony's transformation in reverse. He saw two men shoot JFK, the bullets whizzing back from the president to the shooters, seen clear as day to Harry, the one thy accused, and one with dark, brown eyes and long, shoulder length black hair, with a metal arm in the place of his left arm, his face covered by a mask. He saw the explosions at Nagasaki and Hiroshima in reverse the atrocities caused by the Nazis, the terror instilled by Grindelwald and his blood purists.

He saw everything flash before his eyes, almost begging the influx of images to stop when he was shot out of the Veil and deposited with a loud bang on top of someone's coffee table, which promptly collapsed due to the force of the fall. He heard someone moving before he groaned in pain and blackness took over his vision.

 _-Line-Break-_

Steve Rogers had been looking forward all day to finally being able to relax and read a book, or sketch some drawings he had been wanting to do for a while. He had had to go to work, despite the fact that his Asthma had been playing up badly due to the cold, and Bucky had decided that today was the day for another round of drinking games down at the pub. He always wondered where that man could get money for alcohol, while he sat here in their apartment freezing his ass off because they had no wood for the fire.

The moment he had walked in the door of the apartment, he had grabbed a pile of blankets and curled up on the couch, reading his favourite copy of _The Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allen Poe_. He tried as hard as he could to have as little bare flesh out to the open air, made harder when trying to hold his book open to read. He had gotten half way through his favourite tale, _The Tell Tale Heart,_ when his attention was pulled from his book with an almighty bang.

Looking up to the roof, for surely that had been where the noise had come from, right before him a man appeared out of thin air, the shadows seeming to move towards a point, coalescing into the solid form of a boy, no older than seventeen with wild, midnight black hair and pale, snow white skin, the room seeming to heat up at his presence. With a flash of bright white light, and another bang, he fell onto Steve's coffee table with a crash, the force of the fall making the table collapse. The boy groaned in pain before he went quiet, his breathing surprisingly even despite the fall.

Steve could only stare at the boy, shocked that what had happened, his mind trying to comprehend what had happened. As his eyes roamed over the boy's body, he quickly spotted a large, heavily bleeding gash on his arm, oozing blood on the remains of his coffee table. Getting over his shock quickly, Steve threw the blankets on top of him off, pulling off his belt to wrap around the arm, just above the wound to stem the blood flow. He pulled the raven haired boy onto the couch, being careful to keep the bloody wound off the material. He quickly ran to the bathroom, pulling out the First Aid kit, and running back into the lounge room to get to work.

He quickly pulled out bandages, medicinal alcohol, a needle and thread, and grabbed a bowl from the kitchen to pour the alcohol into, along with some matches. Placing the bandages into the bowl, and pouring the alcohol in with them, Steve quickly got to work cleaning the wound in an effort to keep away infection. He dipped the needle, already threaded, into the alcohol and struck a match, pulling the needle over the flame, the left over alcohol catching fire and quickly going out, sterilizing the needle. He knew personally what problems infections could cause from un-sterilized equipment.

Cleaning the wound of as much blood as possible, Steve quickly go to work sewing the wound shut, making sure to keep the wound clean and sterile as he went along. Finishing up, he cut the thread off as close to the wound as he could get, washing the area with some more alcohol. He placed gauze over the wound, wrapping it in bandages and securing it as tightly as he possibly could, removing the belt from above the wound as he did so.

As he was packing up the first aid kit, he felt his chest tighten and his breaths became more and more laboured as he went. _Come on Steve_ he thought to himself _deep breathes. Calm down, deep breathes, and this will be all over._

He kept trying to take deeper breaths but all he could do was panic, not noticing the boy on the couch groan as he woke. _Oh god, I'm going to die_ was the last thought that went through his mind as something was placed to his lips, a cold, bitter liquid passing down his throat and a hazy fog passed over his mind. The last thing he saw was emerald green eyes filled with concern and worry before his eyes closed of their own accord and he was embraced by the darkness of sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Whoo, second chapter already. This really seems to be writing itself at this point. A lot of talking in this on towards the end, but I hope you like it.**

 **Now to answer some questions.**

 **EveJHoang:** I know that the ending of chapter 1 looks like Potion Accident, which is a good story by the way. The main reason I didn't write this until now, was because I was wondering how they would first meet. Sorry, innocence2652, if your reading this, for having it similar to how they meet, but it was the only thing I could think of. I promise that the rest will be different in the future. And no, Bucky will not be an ass. Well, he will be at the start towards Harry, but that is it. The way I wrote it was more that Steve was annoyed at him for what he does, is all.

 **LeeArt:** This is all before Steve becomes a Super Soldier. I've got it started about a good year and a half from when he becomes a Super Soldier, as this is when Harry's and Steve's relationship starts up. So, as stated in this chapter, it is in 1941. As for meeting back up with the others, and whether or not they will meet Harry in the 40's or not is going to be known only to me until I post that.

 **Anyway, onwards to the story.**

 **-** _ **Line-Break-**_

Harry woke with a groan, a searing pain in his left arm. A searing pain he knew all too well, the pain of alcohol being used to sterilize a wound. He slowly woke, not noticing anything familiar with his surroundings, not remembering how he got here, before it all came rushing back. The Veil, the seemingly endless fall, the colours, the flashes of emotions…

He was jerked out of memory lane when he heard a gasp of pain and a thump. He shot up from where he was laying, absently noticing he was in a lounge room, before he found the source of the noise. There next to a broken coffee table (which he absently remembered was broken _because_ of his landing), was a small, thin blond haired man with startlingly electric blue eyes, gasping for air and clutching his chest in obvious pain.

Leaping off the couch he was on, he quickly went to his leather jacket, which had fallen off of him when he landed, and searched through his pockets, looking for various potions and salves he had stashed for emergencies like these. He pulled out a long, thin vial, almost like a test tube, filled with an acidic green substance, another, square shaped vial filled with a navy blue liquid, a blood red concoction in a pyramid shaped vial and a jar filled with a cream coloured salve. He quickly pulled out a length of green dyed leather, pulling his shoulder length hair back into a tail, out of his eyes so he could work more efficiently.

Moving over to the blond man, he quickly unstoppered the green filled vial, and pushed the pain reliever to his lips, forcing him to swallow. Quickly followed by that was the blood red potion, a dreamless sleep, so that the man wouldn't be in any more pain while he tried to heal him. He waved his hand, conjuring a small, bright blue flame that floated in the air, and levitated the square vial over it, still stoppered, making it boil into a fine, dark blue mist. While that was boiling, Harry ripped off the man's shirt, opened the jar of salve, and scooped up a large quantity of the cream coloured substance, before rubbing it between his hands to warm it up, before kneading it into the man's chest.

The muscle relaxant started to do its work, making it easier for the man to breath, loosening up the muscles in his chest to make it easier. Harry hissed spells in parseltongue, pushing his magic through his hands, seeing what was wrong with the blond, and trying to rid his body of any problems that were present. For now he focused on the lungs, as it had obviously been an asthma attack, and so searched the lungs with his magic. The blonde's lungs were filled with fluid and phlegm, a severe infection by the looks of it, and it hadn't been treated recently, or if it had, it hadn't been treated correctly. Harry knew that if he didn't do anything to heal the blond now, the man would most definitely be dead by the end of the winter. Looking around, he noticed there was no heating except for an empty fireplace, and so quickly set to work heating up the small apartment.

He flick his fingers on his right hand, summoning his wand from its holster. Pointing it at the fireplace, he conjured logs and lit them on fire, immediately noticing a difference, before casting heating charms around the apartment, heating the room up even quicker. He looked back to the blond, marvelling in the beauty of the man's sleeping face, before he quickly shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind. This was _not_ the time to be thinking like that. For all Harry knew, the man could be straight, and he didn't know where he was either. He would simply push those thoughts back until he found out more.

He looked at the man's lungs again through his magic and heaved a sigh. This was beyond even his abilities, and he was considered to be an exceptional healer before Weasley's betrayal. He quickly thought about what he could do, before a thought hit him. Maybe it could work. It was completely unorthodox, yes, but it would work. And it was used in only extreme cases, and Harry considered this to be an extreme case, so he went to work.

When Harry had decided to be a healer, they had found out that due to the first ten years of his life being beaten by the Dursley's, before being removed when Dumbledore realised his mistake, his magic had developed an odd quirk. Of course, this worked more in Harry's favour than anything else. Due to the near constant beatings, his magic had built up a defence, and was able to heal much quicker than any other witch or wizard normally would. It explained why he was up and walking around a week after a hundred foot drop after the dementor's attacked during the Quidditch game in his third year. He would have been killed quicker from the basilisk bite earlier if his magic hadn't been fighting off the poison as much as it had before Fawkes had come along.

An ability that all healers were taught was the ability to remove an illness from a patient's body, and place it in their own body, as healing magic worked better on oneself than on others, in most cases, and seeing as Parselmagic was centred on healing, it worked the best. Hissing in parseltongue, he drew the fluid and phlegm from the blonde's lungs, though his chest, up through his arms, and into his own lungs. He felt a searing pain in his chest as the fluid took up space in his lungs that would be needed for air. His breathes became laboured and heavy, before he felt his magic attack the infection, slowly starting to fend it off. But it wouldn't be enough, so Harry removed his hands from the blonde's chest, pulled off his shirt, and placed his hands to his chest.

Continuing his hissing in parseltongue, he felt his magic move, as if it were like a snake, and rather than generally attacking the infection, it became more focused in its attack. It quickly and efficiently removed the fluid, before breaking down and removing the phlegm that had started to attach itself to his lungs. His magic then shifted, and went from attacking to defending and healing, fixing any damage that had been done to his lungs, before moving on to learning what had happened, remembering what had happened so Harry didn't have to focus on it next time.

He moved away from the wall he had been leaning on after pulling the infection into his body. Pulling the levitating potion vial from the air and banishing the flame underneath with a wave of his hand. He lifted up the blondes head, unstoppering the vial, and pushing it under his nose, making him breath in the mist that now filled the vial. When he had breathed in the whole contents of the vial, Harry lay him back down, lifting him onto the couch, and covering him in blankets ad resting a pillow under his head.

Turning from the now healed blond, Harry looked around the apartment, wondering what he was going to do. His stomach growled in hunger, and making up his mind, he moved into the kitchen, looking around for supplies to make a meal. He knew he would need some food, and hot food at that, and he knew the man he had just saved would want some food and an explanation, and so got to work.

 _-Line-Break-_

When Steve woke from his dreamless sleep, the first thing he noticed was that he was pain free. The second was that he was warm. _Surely I must be dead_ he though _I've never been this pain free after an attack, and it's too warm for the apartment._ The smell of fresh, warm bread, and beef stew wafted into his nose, making him sigh contentedly. _This must be heaven, Bucky doesn't know how to cook beef stew. He doesn't even know I like the stuff._

Opening his eyes, he looked around, noticing he was still in his apartment, a large fire roaring in the fireplace. He sat up, pulling off all of the blankets, as he went to get up off the couch. Before he knew it, the emerald eyed boy he had patched up earlier was in front of him, kneeling down so he wouldn't have to crane his neck. He had an acidic green liquid in a test tube, and he felt his heart skip a beat when the raven haired boy smiled, showing a full set of perfectly white teeth.

"You had me scared there for a while, you know?" the boy said, holding out his hand in greeting. Taking it, the boy said "My name is Harry Potter, and I helped stopped you from dying. Sorry about the coffee table, I can help fix that. Now tell me, what is your name, and are you in any pain?"

"I'm in no pain, surprisingly" Steve said, not lying at all. Something about the boy just made him _not_ want to lie. And as he said, he had saved his life, after all. "My name is Steve. Steve Rogers. Thanks for saving me, I don't know what I would have done if you weren't here." His stomach growled in hunger, before he said "Looks like I'm going to have to make dinner…"

The boy (Harry, he remembered), cut him off, placing the test tube on the couch, saying "There's no need, Steve. I've already cooked us some dinner, I knew you would like some food after the dreamless sleep potion. Believe me, I know from experience. Come on, I think you're strong enough to walk, but take the vial…" here, Harry pointed to the tube of acidic green liquid "…it's a pain reliever, so if you start feeling any pain, drink that immediately."

Getting up slowly, Steve grabbed the vial and placed it in his pocket, following Harry over to the small kitchen, where a freshly baked loaf of bread sat cooling on the bench, with a pot of beef stew still boiling away on the stove. Blowing out the flame on the stove, Harry grabbed two bowls and a soup ladle, scooping up generous amounts of the stew for both of them, placing one in front of Steve as he sat at one of the bar stools at the counter. Harry cut up two, large chunks of bread, steam wafting up from the cut in the bread, handing one to Steve, before he grabbed a spoon and started eating the stew, ripping off large chunks of bread from his slice and dipping it in here and there.

Tentatively following Harry's lead, he spooned some stew into his mouth, marvelling at the taste. He ripped off a piece of bread, placing it in his mouth, marvelling at the taste of cinnamon and sugar that spread across his tongue. "This has got to be the best beef stew I've ever tasted" he commented. "The bread too, it tastes so amazing with the cinnamon."

"Why thank you, Steve" Harry said, pride glowing in his eyes. "And I didn't put any cinnamon in the bread." At Steve's questioning look, he elaborated. "It is powdered unicorn horn. When mixed with flour, yeast and water, it makes that one that eats it taste what they desire most. In your case, you love the taste of cinnamon, so that is what you taste. In my case, I taste oranges."

They had been eating through Harry's entire explanation, and had finished the stew before a thought came to Steve. "Wait, wait, wait, what do you mean unicorns? They don't exist."

 _-Line-Break-_

Harry sighed, knowing something like this would come up sooner or later. Thinking about his response, he said "Well this will eventually get into how I got here, so I will ask you to keep an open mind. Now one question, what do you know about magic?"

Steve looked at him puzzled by the question, before he replied. "Aside from magicians at carnivals and gypsy's who steal your money? It doesn't exist."

"As I said Steve, you need to keep an open mind" Harry said once Steve and answered him. He looked around the room, and quickly spotted the broken coffee table, moving over to it, aware that Steve was watching his every move. "Will you believe me if I were to show you some magic?"

Steve nodded, wondering where this was going, but didn't say anything.

Harry clicked his fingers, making his wand appear in his hand from its holster, making Steve's eyes widen in wonder. This wasn't what he was going to show Steve, and Harry knew that he didn't need a wand for a spell a simple as this, but as long as he made Steve believe him, he would be fine. Pointing his wand at the broken wood still lying on the floor, he waved his wand, incanting _"Reparo"_ as he did so, a jet of grey light hitting the wood.

The wood immediately quivered and shook, before the slab of wood that acted as the table rose up, a large crack running through it mending as it rose. It still had a leg attached, though haphazardly, which quickly straightened out, the other legs flying up to reattach themselves to the table. The table seemed to be repaired of years of use, all the gouges and stains, scratches and nicks being removed. Finally, the table lowered back to the floor, shining with a new coat of varnish.

When the table was repaired, he waved his wand, sending another spell, this time a bright orange, towards the coffee table, and the two men watched as it morphed and changed, being transfigured into a kangaroo, that bounced on the spot, staring at Harry, as if waiting for orders. He looked to Steve, stifling a laugh at the look of pure awe and wonder on the man's face at the sight of magic being performed in his home. Cancelling the spell, Harry and Steve watched as the kangaroo morphed back into a table, leaving no trace of the animal ever being in the room.

"Do you believe me now?" Harry asked, receiving a nod in return. "Now I must ask, what is the date?"

Steve snapped out of his trance, before registering the question. "It is January 16th, 1941. Why?"

"Well as you can see, my clothes are completely different from yours" Harry replied, indicating the clothes he wore. "I am surprised myself to say that I am from the future, though time traveling wasn't what I expected to do."

"What do you mean, it wasn't what you expected?"

"Well, simple, really" Harry replied. "I stepped through what is known as the Veil, which no one has ever survived. From what we understood of it, we didn't know what would happen when I stepped into it, but I was told that I needed to, that there was someone on the other side that needed my help. And it think that may have been you."

Steve was a little shocked at the explanation, but understood that it was how Harry had appeared suddenly out of thin air. And he was most definitely grateful to Harry for saving his life, that's for sure. "So what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know. I don't want to go back anytime soon, what with the public clamouring for my head, but I would most definitely want to hang around near you. I want to make sure you stay healthy, and make sure all my work isn't for nothing. Money isn't a problem, that's for sure, but somewhere close by in case you need help would be perfect."

"Well there is a spare room here, if you want to stay. You would have to split the rent, and even if money isn't a problem, it would still be cheaper than paying for an apartment by yourself. And with the way the war is going, with so many immigrants coming over from Europe, you would have no luck in trying to get anything close to here at all."

"Really?" Harry asked, shocked that someone he had just met was offering to open their home to him. "Thanks, but I don't want to intrude…"

"Nonsense, Harry" Steve cut in, knowing where he was going. "You saved my life, and I can't thank you enough for doing that. You didn't even know me, and yet you saved my life when you didn't have to. So, you are free to stay here if you want, but I won't force you to do anything you don't want to."

"Okay, I will take you up on that offer" Harry said, a smile plastered on his face. "But I need to go to my bank, to exchange some money to help pay for the rent."

They sat in a mild silence for a few minutes, before they heard the front door opening and a tall, well-muscled man in a suite walked in. Steve perked up, seeing his one true friend, while Harry was wary, his stance moving to that of a defensive position in case he needed to do anything. He relaxed, if only slightly, at Steve's call of "Bucky" to the man, bringing the now named man's attention to the two of them.

"Steve" Bucky said, eyes narrowed at Harry, causing him to be on edge a little. "Who's this?"

Harry sighed. _This was going to be one exhausting night_ he thought to himself, moving over to ladle some food into a bowl for the man, slicing some bread and placing it at an empty spot. "You might as well eat, sir, this is going to take a while."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey, another chapter yet again. This is going so quickly already. Now, some questions need to be answered.**

 **EveJHoang:** There is a reason for why Hermione is in the character listing, but she will return, but it won't be until later. When that is, remains with me.

 **R. A. Cross:** Your questions will be answered in this chapter. Hope you like the answer.

 **Well that is it, and this went for a lot longer than I was expecting it to go, so sorry about the length. But anyway, enjoy.**

 _ **-Line-Break**_

His fingers ran across the keys of the piano with deadly precision, telling a tale as the sweet sound of music ran through the apartment. When he had been hiding out in one of the Black family Manors in France, Harry had taught himself how to play, as a way of filling up his free time.

The sweet music told a tale of hope for a family, of joy when receiving that wish, of finally having a family…

Of course, Harry couldn't read a sheet of music to save his life, he preferred to improvise and create new music every time he played. He preferred to use music to help him revisit his memories, as it was more comforting than using a pensieve, as he didn't seem like an outside observer.

The music changed to that of great elation, of having someone to love, and be loved by. It quickly turned to horror, and emptiness at the loss of that someone…

Harry didn't notice Steve and Bucky enter the room, already dressed for their night out on the town, despite Steve's and Harry's unwillingness to do so. Harry was ready too, dressed in dark, navy blue formal robes, which looked a lot like a suit, with red trimming and gold cuffs. Steve wore his usual brown trench coat and formal shirt, with black slacks that seemed a little too big for his small stature. Bucky was wearing a simple pair of dark jeans and a leather jacket, with a blood red shirt on underneath.

The music continued into horror, the loss of those he called family, anger and pain leaking in to the music towards those that had taken his loved ones from him. The music changed to betrayal before…

Harry hit a sour note, stopping his play of music immediately after the wrong note, as per the norm. He let out a breath, sighing at the memories running through his head, before he closed the lid over the keys of the piano, before getting up, and turning to the other two occupants of the room.

"Sorry about that, guys, just needed to let off some steam" Harry said to the two, both men still completely awed at Harry's display of music. "Shall we go? I know you two have wanted to see a wizarding pub for a while, so come along."

As the three friends left the apartment, Harry leading the trio, he couldn't help but reminisce over the last couple of months. It had been six months since he landed in 1941, six months since landing on Steve's coffee table and saving his life. He knew he wasn't supposed to tell the two muggles what he was, though Bucky seemed to have some understanding of what he meant (Harry thought that Bucky must have been a squib, but wasn't entirely sure he wanted to ask). He knew the Statute of Secrecy was definitely in place in the 40's, but he felt like he could trust the two. And besides, he knew for a fact that he was still in his own timeline, and knew that he was in his own universe.

As he had told Hermione and his honorary brothers, the Hallows tended to whisper things to him, telling him who to trust, what was okay to do and what wasn't. At first, he had been sceptical, as he knew hearing voices for no reason was a sign of madness, wizarding world or muggle, it didn't matter. But when he followed the voices instructions, and it had saved his life and countless others along the way, he had started to trust the Hallows more and more. It helped that they had said he was needed on the other side of the Veil, and that had been true. Since his arrival, Steve had had three more attacks, all of which would have been deadly if not for Harry.

And they had told him that he should trust Steve and Bucky explicitly, and so he had. After Bucky had come home that night he arrived, he had told them both his whole story, leaving nothing out. Bucky had still been wary of him, that was until Steve's next attack about a month after his arrival. He had been present the whole time Harry had healed Steve up and nursed him back to health. Bucky had warmed up to Harry very quickly after that incident.

The three friends walked through the streets of New York, as Harry turned onto the street with the Empire State Building. Walking up to the entrance, Steve and Bucky had quizzical looks in their faces as Harry opened the door for them with a smile and a "After you."

Over the six months, Harry had grown to like Steve as more than just a friend, but was scared as to how to say it. He knew that the situation in the forties wasn't the best for being Gay, but he couldn't help it. Though he was more scared on what Steve would say, rather than what the public would say. He was worried he would run his first friend in the forties off, that he wouldn't return the feelings and would be disgusted with him and kick him out. Though he hoped that Steve did return the feelings, as he knew Steve had a big heart, and even if he didn't, he wouldn't be disgusted in him.

It was now July, the twentieth to be exact. The three had decided that, even though Harry's and Steve's birthdays were at either end of the month, they would celebrate them together. Though, this was more because Harry and Steve didn't want to have to go to the pubs twice in the same month.

The three walked over to the elevators, entering the one on the far left. The others looked at him questioningly, before he said "just watch." He turned to the buttons, pressing the button to close the door.

"You're not going to jump us and have sex, are you Harry?" Bucky asked, a cocky grin on his face. "Cause you know, no one can see us now."

Harry laughed, shooting a "Shut up Bucky" over his shoulder, crouching down to just below the buttons. There was a slot that needed a key, or so it seemed to Bucky and Steve, as Harry pulled out his wand and inserted it into the slot. A disembodied voice filled the elevator from overhead, saying "Scan complete. Greetings, Harry James Potter. Are you aware that two muggles are in the lift with you?"

"Yes, thank you Samantha, I already knew that" Harry replied, looking to the roof as he said it. "They're visiting with me, so can you please provide visitor badges?"

"Of course, my Lord" the voice, Samantha, replied. "Please insert seven sickles, you shall receive the badges when you get to your floor. Now, where do you want to go?"

"Seventh Floor, Pub District" Harry said quickly, holding back a laugh at the shocked faces Steve and Bucky were sporting. "As close as you can get to _The Prancing Dragon_ , please?"

"Of course, my Lord" Samantha said, before the intercom audibly shut off. With a jolt, the elevator went _down_ , shocking the other two even more.

Getting over his shock quickly, Steve said "I though the Empire State Building didn't have a basement?"

"Oh it doesn't" Harry replied, still holding back a smile. "At least, not to muggles, that is. When they were drawing up the plans for the building, the Wizards in the city asked to put their own shopping district beneath the building, as it would be the perfect entrance for wizards to get to the shops. It beats having to go through a pub whenever you need to go shopping, I can tell you that."

The elevator dinged as it got the seventh floor of the New York Wizarding shopping district. The doors opened up to show _The Prancing Dragon_ on the other side of the street. Two guards in deep purple robes (the colours of wizarding America) stood on either side of the door. The one on their left, a woman with long black hair, turned to them holding two badges that looked like shields, both made of silver with the word "Visitor" engraved in elegant script across the surface.

"Here you go, my Lord" she said, her voice like silk. "Remember, curfew for muggles is half past ten, so you have to be gone by then."

"Yes I remember, than you Ma'am" Harry said politely, grabbing the badges and walking a few paces away, Steve and Bucky following behind. When out of hearing of the woman, he turned to them, pinning the badges to their collars so they were clearly visible. "Okay, so as the woman said, curfew for you two is at ten thirty, so we will be leaving at ten. Bucky, if you want to go to your usual hangout, that is fine by me, but I'm sure Steve and I will return to the apartment. Am I right?" He looked at Steve as he said this, who nodded in acceptance. He turned on his heel, before looking over his shoulder and saying to Bucky "Try not to flirt with any women tonight, please. Their fathers will take it as a marriage proposal, and I know you don't want that." Bucky gulped, nodding his head to show he understood, as they walked into the Pub.

 _-Line-Break-_

Steve could only stare in awe at the pub as they walked in. It was both exactly like a normal pub, but also not at the same time. There seemed to be the usual types of people, the drunks, the visitors, the workers. They even had live music playing. But that was where the similarities ended. Plates and cups flew through the air, meals appearing in front of customers as the shouted their orders to the table, cups and mugs magically refilling themselves when they were emptied. There was a corner completely fenced off with a waist high wall, and Steve could see wizards duelling as a crowd formed, placing bets on who the winner would be.

The bartender looked up, and upon seeing the trio, called out "So it seems that our champion has returned. Shall you be joining the competition tonight?"

"Only for a little while, Horace, but in an hour" Harry called back to the bartender, with a bow to the room when everyone looked their way. "For now, I want three Butter Beers in the usual room, thanks."

Harry led them to the room in question as Horace walked in, carrying three large mugs of what Steve believed to be Butter Beer. Nodding in thanks, and handing over three gold coins ( _Galleons_ Steve thought), they sat around a large oak table, with a fire roaring next to them.

Bucky grabbed a mug and raised it high, saying "Happy Birthday Boys" before sculling half the glass, clearly liking the taste. Harry and Steve lifted their mugs to the toast, and took smaller gulps of their drinks. Steve moaned in joy when he tasted the sweet, warm liquid roll across his tongue.

"So, boys, I think it's about time for presents, don't you think?" Bucky said, pulling his bag from where he had placed it at his feet, pulling out three wrapped parcels, passing two to Steve and one to Harry. Harry, in turn, pulled out a shrunken box from his pocket, placed it on the table and un-shrunk it, opening it to pull out three parcels as well. He removed the wooden box from the table, placing it at his feet, and passing two parcels to Steve and one to Bucky.

At Bucky's confused look, Harry said to wait while Steve and Harry opened their gifts. Steve passed one of the parcels to Harry with a "Happy Birthday", with Harry doing the same to Steve, telling him to open his first.

Bucky handed over wrapped present, which looked suspiciously like a book, and unwrapped it, finding a copy of J. R. R. Tolkien's _The Hobbit._ He thanked Bucky for the gift, who knew he loved fantasy novels, before he turned to the presents from Harry.

The first was a rather flat box, wrapped in blue paper with silver stars that moved around like the night sky. Upon unwrapping it, Steve found an ebony wood box, with an elegant engraving of S.R. engraved on the lid, with silver trim on the edges. Opening the box, Steve could only stare in wonder at the new artist set he found, complete with paints, brushes, pencils, both coloured and black, charcoal, pastels and a new sketchbook bound in leather. He even found eagle feather quills, and bottles of coloured ink in a small compartment separated from the rest. Everything sat in a black silk lining that was perfectly fitted to the inside of the box

"I know you've been meaning to get a new book, and you've been needing some new pencils for a while, so I thought you might want set" Harry said upon noticing the look on Steve's face. "And I know you've wanted to go into other mediums as well, which is why you have paints and inks and other materials. The sketchbook is charmed to be never ending, and the leather is the skin of a Hungarian Horntail. Took me a month to find a seller willing to sell it at a decent price. It's also charmed so it doesn't get damaged by fire or water, and drawings won't smudge unless you purposely do it. The same protections go for the box, and only you can open it. The paints, inks pencils and other materials will never run out, either."

"Thanks Harry, this is beautiful" Steve said, being completely honest with his secret crush. He turned to the second present, and started to unwrap it while saying "You didn't need to get me anything else, you know. The artists set itself must have cost a fortune."

He still unwrapped the second present, not noticing Harry's shrug of the shoulders. This one was also a box, though this time it was a simple oak box, with nothing but a small clasp and hinges on the outside. It had no discernible way of telling what was inside, so he undid the clasp and opened the lid. Inside, was a golden pocket watch on a thin, silver chain, polished to shine perfectly in the light. On the lid of the watch was an engraving of an eagle in flight, its wing tips reaching around to the edges of the watch. Its eyes were a perfect match for Steve's icy blue ones, made of pale blue sapphires. Steve couldn't help it. "It's beautiful, Harry. This is amazing. All the detail, this must have cost a fortune. Forget the artists set, this must have cost more."

"Open yours Bucky" was all Harry said in answer to the comments.

Steve looked over to Bucky, who unwrapped his gift tentatively, opening the box without bothering to question the young wizard. Inside was a similar watch, though this one was silver, with an inlay of onyx writing J. B. B., standing for James Buchannan Barnes. Without looking up from the watch, Steve heard Bucky say "You didn't have to do this, you know? You barely know us, and it isn't even my birthday. This is too much."

"I understand that, but you two are my only friends, and you know that" Harry said, defending his actions. "And besides, they have protections for you on them..." and so Harry gave Steve and Bucky the same run down of the watches as he had with Hermione, Neville, Fred and George. "…And besides, Bucky, if you want to, think of it as an early birthday present, okay? I just want to see the two of you safe, and with the way the war is going over in Europe, on all three fronts, it's just a matter of time before you get conscripted. So I want to see that you are still save, okay?"

They both nodded, not wanting to challenge the wizard, before Steve spoke up and said "Go on, Harry, open yours. They aren't as expensive as what you got us, but we're sure you will like them either way."

 _-Line-Break-_

Harry pulled a small present his way, wrapped in emerald green paper. Carefully unwrapping it, being careful to not damage the paper, finding a small bottle of cologne. Spraying some onto his wrist, he carefully let it dry before breathing in the scent, his mind going fuzzy from the heavenly scent. It smelt familiar to him, though he couldn't remember where from.

"Heavenly" Harry said, honesty clear in his tone. "Thank you Steve, this is wonderful." With that, he sprayed some more on himself, making sure to smell it some more before placing it back on the hard wood table. He pulled over the second present, still wrapped in emerald green, though this one was clearly a bottle, and a lot larger than the cologne bottle. He had a feeling it was alcohol, not that he cared. He did indulge himself every now and again. Pulling off the paper, he found a bottle of whiskey, from the late seventeen hundreds, in France. He was absolutely gobsmacked at the gift. "Wh-where di-did you get this? It can't have been cheap, because this is rare shit?"

"The price isn't a problem, but I found it in a small store down a back alley, sold really old stuff, from alcohol to furniture, weapons and other such stuff" Bucky said. "Almost missed that, actually. The label was covered in so much dust, I couldn't read it."

"Thank you, the both of you" Harry said, elation clear in his voice. "Now I think it's time for dinner, don't you think?"

And so Bucky and Steve got their first taste of House Elf cooking. Bucky got a steak, Steve got a bowl of beef stew, while Harry got a plate of Lasagne, and for desert, Harry ordered all three of them Treacle Tart, saying it was the best desert there was. They both seemed to agree. Finishing desert, Harry packed all of the presents into the wooden box at his feet, before shrinking it so it fit in Bucky's bag. Placing it in the bag, they made their way from their private room to the main room of the Pub, taking seats around the duelling ring to watch a match. It was eight thirty, so they still had a while to go before they had to leave.

The current duel wasn't really good, in Harry's opinion. _Even Weasley could put up a better fight_ he thought _though they are drunks, so that isn't surprising._ When the duel finished, with both men falling unconscious due to inebriation, the bartender walked into the centre of the ring, waiters levitating the two drunks out of the pub. Holding his wand to his throat, he announced to the collected audience "Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen. Tonight, we have our esteemed champion here, willing to demonstrate the practicalities of duelling." He gestured to Harry, who rose from his seat and made his way to the centre of the ring, standing to the right Horace. Applause ran through the room at the site of the champion, as Harry transfigured his formal robes into more suitable battle robes that hugged his form nicely, and were easy to move around in. He noticed some women swooning off to the side, but didn't bother to acknowledge their existence. He failed to notice Steve staring at him the whole time. "So who here is willing to fight our champion in a duel, best two out of three?"

About a dozen men stood up at once, and about half as many women, before Harry whispered into Horace's ear "Make it three against one, I can't take all night."

Horace looked sceptical, but announced the change either way, and allowed Harry to pick the contestants, as usual. For the first round, Harry picked two men and a woman, for the second two women and a man, the third was a group consisting entirely of women, and the final three groups were entirely men, who looked battle hardened and ready to fight. He always left the best to last.

Facing each other in the centre of the ring, Harry on the left, his three opponents on the right, the four contestants all bowed respectfully, spun on their heels before walking gracefully to their ends of the ring, spinning around to face their opponent, getting into their battle stances. While his three opponents tensed up, ready to fight, Harry stood there easily, his weight on his left leg, wand loosely grasped in his hand. Horace counted down from three, and at one the duel began.

It didn't last long. Harry's opponents, believing they had an upper hand, were cocky and not expecting a fight. They were certainly not expecting large gouts of fire to be sent their way, knocking one out, before being quickly, if inefficiently blocked by the others. As they twisted out of the way of the flames, Harry sent a blasting hex to the woman, throwing her to the ground, knocking her unconscious, before he sent a leg locker to the remaining man, who simply tripped over and lost his balance, making them lose to fight.

The next two duels went similarly, though these six contestants were able to throw some spells towards Harry before they were knocked out. The duel with the three women took longer, as they all twisted elegantly away from the spells before sending some to him, which hit Harry with pinpoint accuracy. Despite the better start on the part, they were still beaten quickly.

The fifth duel ended with Harry having a broken leg, which was quickly mended after, due to a stray bone breaker. This time Harry conjured a whip of lightning from his wand, coiling and tightening its way around him protectively, before he lashed out, attacking the men, leaving them moaning in pain from severe burns to their arms and legs.

The sixth and final duel had Steve sitting on the edge of his seat, worried that Harry would get severely hurt. He was bleeding from several cuts and wounds across his body, and a bone was sticking out of his left arm. He was clearly in a lot of pain. Steve was sure, that with the state Harry was in, that he was going to lose. But what happened next shocked the whole room.

Harry pointed his wand in the direction of the two remaining competitors, thinking of Steve's smiling face when he opened his presents just an hour ago. With a shout of " _Expecto Patronum Inflamare"_ the whole room went quiet. Three patroni, wreathed in flames, burst from the tip of his wand. A stag, tall and ethereal, looking very much like royalty. Prongs. A wolf, siting in its haunches, howling towards a non-existent moon. Moony. And finally, a large, grim like dog with a large, goofy grin on its face. Padfoot. Prongs and Moony charged towards Harry's opponents, setting their clothes on fire as they stood stock still, before they ran out of the pub, yelling _"Aguamenti"_ at their clothes as they went. Padfoot came up to Harry, nuzzling his hand before he disappeared as Harry cancelled the spell.

With that, Harry collapsed to the ground, focusing on his core so that he could channel his magic into healing his body. He felt the broken bone in his arm reset itself, moving back into place, the bone mending, the flesh and muscle stitching itself back together. He felt the rivulets of blood flow slow and finally stop as the cuts slowly healed up, bruises slowly fading from existence, to leave perfectly smooth, creamy skin, with no evidence of there ever being any damage in the first place. Standing up on still shaky legs, he thanked Horace, who handed him two vials, one a pepper up potion, while another was a blood replenisher.

The crowd burst into applause as Harry moved out of the ring, moving over to his friends, motioning towards the door. They stood and headed over, ready to retire for the night, in the case of Harry and Steve. As they made it to the door, a large, busty blond woman latched onto Harry's arms, dragging him back towards the onlookers. Her hand had an iron grip on his bicep, and he felt a pinch on his arm. Looking own, he saw she had very long nails, filed to a point, and what looked like a pink substance underneath.

His mind started to cloud over, a pinkish mist seeming to invade his occlumency shields, telling him that he had always been in love with this woman, Kathryn, the fog said. He shook his head, trying to shake off the mist, before the family magic in his lordship ring flared, dispelling the mist and purging the substance from his system. He smirked evilly, before turning to the woman.

"I'm sorry, Kathryn was it?" Harry asked, broad smile on his face that made him seem totally flattered by the woman. She clearly didn't see how fake it was, but others around them did.

"Why do you ask that, honey?" The witch asked in a high pitched, nasally voiced. "We've been together for a year now, and you can't even remember my name? How bad of you for forgetting your own fiancées name."

"Oh really" Harry drawled, the smile being wiped from his face in an instant. She tried to step back, but Harry latched onto her arm. "Is that what your love potion did, did it? Made me think you were my fiancée, did it?"

His voice was like steel, cutting through the room like a fin blade. Harry turned to Horace, grip still tight around the woman's arm, who was still struggling. "Horace, call the Aurors. Tell them it's a case of attempted line theft!"

The whole room gasped, the woman fainting at the sound of the charges. He quickly placed her in a chair, binding her to it with a quick _"Incarcerous"_ before turning to Bucky and Steve, both of them awed at what had happened. "Sorry boys, but this is going to take a while."

 _-Line-Break-_

Steve was still in awe when they walked out of the Empire State Building forty five minutes later, after curfew in the wizarding district, but with a valid reason. He knew his crush was good, but he hadn't known he was that good, at both duelling and pressing charges against criminals.

After the Aurors had arrived, Harry gave his testimony to them, followed by Bucky and Steve, before Harry conjured a piece of parchment, listing every potion he had been given in the past week, including the Amortentia that had been introduced directly into his blood stream. The Aurors had said that doing that could be deadly, and that he was lucky to still be standing.

They walked through the streets of New York, the three friends enjoying the silence of the streets, talking about various bits and pieces that had happened during the day that they had missed during dinner. Harry had bought some brewery in New England a month ago, and had received a small shipment of some of their latest batch of alcohol for him to sample. Steve had gotten a raise at work, with commissions for his drawings coming in quicker than ever. Bucky had been promoted at the Saw mill he worked at, being put in charge of a small group of men who worked on various machines. The promotion even came with a raise, so it made it easier on the rent, leaving a little extra left over for splurging on themselves. Not that it was a problem, as Harry had too much money to even know what to do with it, though Steve and Bucky only asked for a third of the rent, no matter how hard things got.

They made it to their street, where their apartment was, before they split, Steve and Harry going home, while Bucky went to the pub to check up on his mates, and to probably get drunk. The two friends walked on in silence down the street, before Steve spoke up. "Thanks for the presents again, Harry. I kinda wish I had gotten you a little more, now that I think about it."

"Don't worry about it, Steve" Harry said, climbing the stairs behind Steve up towards their apartment. "As I've said multiple times, I have got too much money, so I have to do _something_ with it. And secondly, you deserve such expensive gifts anyway. You are such a kind hearted person, yet you never get treated like one."

Steve felt his heart flutter at the praise as he unlocked the door to their home, pulling Harry inside behind him. He didn't know what made him do it, but the moment the door was shut, he had rounded on Harry, placing a kiss on his lips, expressing all of his feelings towards Harry in one, single kiss. He then realised what he had done, and pulled back, mortified at what he had done. Would Harry like him that way? Would Harry still want to be his friend? _Oh no, He hasn't reacted_ Steve thought _Oh no, what have I done._

He turned to move back to his room, hoping to pretend what had happened didn't happen, when he was pulled back into a warm hug, sweet, smooth lips pressed against his own, expressing emotions that had been pushed down, surging forth in that one kiss. Steve felt a tongue pushing against his lips, asking for entrance, and he opened his mouth in acceptance. He felt Harry's tongue exploring his mouth, pushing at all the right places, and he did the same, mapping out Harry's mouth with his own tongue. Soon though, they had to break the kiss, gasping for air, foreheads touching, as they gazed into each-other's eyes, icy blue into emerald green. Harry was the first to break the silence.

"Now _that_ was one great birthday present."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey there guys. Sorry about the wait, but I have been busy these last couple of days, so here is the next chapter. For those of you who have read my other story, Angels of Frost and Flame, I has been adopted by the wonderful Amy Eaton, that is her pen name, and she has posted the first chapter. Now, for those wondering why Hermione is in the character bar, she will return later, and she will be important.**

 **Reviews for constructive criticism is welcome.**

 _ **-Line-Break-**_

 _He dreamed of high, cold and cruel laughter, a snake like face, crimson red eyes and betrayal from the one he called brother. He dreamed of sickly green lights, a once majestic castle, now lying in ruins, his godfather, falling through the Veil, of his friends lying dead in the Great Hall after the Battle of Hogwarts._

"Harry?"

 _He saw Cedric, his first love, being murdered in front of his very eyes. He felt the burning in his hand, the words "I must not tell lies" being carved into his hand. He felt the pain course through his body, as the cruciatus curse splashed across his chest. He felt the burning venom of the basilisk coursing through his veins, fearing that he would die soon, knowing there was no way to stop the pain._

"Harry, wake up!"

 _He felt the pure terror of facing Voldemort in his first year, the sheer horror of the fact that he might just die, that this may just be the last thing he ever saw, the face of the man who had murdered his parents._

"Harry, you've got to wake up!"

Harry jolted awake, gasping for breath as if he had been submerged underwater for longer than he should have been, before he felt thin, warm arms wrap around his torso, pulling him into a comforting hug. Unable to keep a hold of his emotions, Harry let out a choked sob, before sobbing into the bare chest in front of his face, hands running up and down his back, comforting him as he reigned in his emotions.

"Harry, calm down, everything is alright" Steve's calming voice washed over him, helping him relax quicker than if he had been by himself. "Please, Harry, it's all going to be fine."

Steve continued to hold him, whispering words of comfort until Harry finally stopped crying, successfully reigning in his emotions. He smiled, thinking about how lucky he must be to have someone as kind and loving as Steve ever being interested in him. He kissed Steve's chest, slowly making his way up the flat chest and thin neck, reaching Steve's soft, pink lips, and kissed the man he loved, pushing his thanks for the comfort through the kiss.

Steve returned the kiss with full vigour, pulling out of the kiss when his lungs begged for fresh air. Harry, still gasping for breath, laid his head down on Steve's chest, his ear placed directly over Steve's heart, listening to the calming beat of his heart, the steady rise and fall of Steve's chest.

It was Halloween, which explained the nightmares to Harry. Sure, he still suffered nightmares after the war, but they had become less and less frequent as time went on, being almost non-existent by the time Harry and Steve had shared their first kiss. But, as usual with his infamous luck, anything bad that could happen on Halloween would happen on Halloween. It had happened during his two years in hiding, with the most debilitating dreams happening on the night before Halloween, making him more moodier than he normally would have been. Though, he hopped this year would be different, despite the dreams he had just had, because Steve was there with him.

It had been a good three months since he and Steve had started dating, and a good two months since they had started sharing the same bed. They had been caught kissing by Bucky about two weeks in to their relationship, who had been surprisingly okay about the situation, saying that it was "about fucking time", before walking into the bathroom to have a shower. It had been a shock to both Steve and Harry that Bucky was so accepting of their relationship, considering the stigma surrounding being gay in the 1940's. Though they had to be careful while in the muggle world with their relationship, they could be completely open in the wizarding world due to the open acceptance of same sex relationships.

"Good morning Steve" Harry whispered, loud enough for Steve to hear him. "I hope I didn't wake you?"

"No, you didn't, Harry. You've got nothing to worry about" Steve said, he too whispering. "I was already awake when you started thrashing in your sleep, so I thought I should wake you up. Its seven thirty, by the way. Do you want me to cook some breakfast?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh, before he said "You? Cooking breakfast? I don't know how you survived so long without me, you know that?" He sighed, before he continued. "No, I'll cook breakfast for us. You go have a shower while I get everything ready."

Harry threw the covers off of them, untangling their legs, before he got up, still wearing his pyjama bottoms. He threw on a shirt something thin, as it was rather warm in New York, despite the time of year. When he reached the door to their room, he turned back to Steve, who was only now sitting up in bed, and said "I'm going to have to clear out your lungs again, Steve. They sound like their getting clogged up again, so I'll do it tonight, before Bucky forces us out again for drinks."

He heard Steve's muttered thank you, and the stifled laugh at his comment as he continued towards the kitchen, pulling out bowls and spoons, flour, sugar, eggs and milk to make pancakes, and as an afterthought, he pulled out some strawberries to put in the pancake batter too. Deciding he would do it quickly, he enchanted the knife to quickly cut up the strawberries, while he pulled out oil and a frying pan, putting them on the stove top to heat up, while he measured out the flour and sugar, mixing it with the eggs and milk. He was half way through cooking up the batch of pancakes when Bucky walked out of his room, hair still ruffled from sleep, and his steps slow and groggy from either sleep, or too much alcohol. Harry honestly thought it could have been both.

"Morning sleepy head" Harry called to him, noticing how he winced in pain, clutching his hands over his ears. "Let me guess, long night drinking, and now you've got a hangover." At Bucky's nod of the head, he continued "Come here, I'll sort you out."

With that, Bucky sat down on one of the bar stools, still wincing in pain, as Harry rummaged through the cupboard under the sink, pulling out various vials of potions, selecting two, a pepper up and a hangover cure, before returning the rest to the cupboard. He placed them in front of Bucky with a sharp "Drink", before turning back to breakfast.

Harry didn't turn back to where Bucky was sitting until he had finished cooking the pancakes, plated high as he served them out between the three of them, pulling some pumpkin juice out of the fridge, offering it to the others, both of whom turned down the offer. He wasn't surprised, it was an acquired taste. They talked through breakfast, Bucky saying that he might be home late due to increased workloads to help with increasing demands from their saw mill. Steve did his usual weekly questioning of details of places Harry had been to before he had gone into the Veil, wishing to see what he could draw, and how accurate it would be based on Harry's responses. He was doing a rough sketch while he questioned Harry, and would continue to work on it through the week, before showing the final piece to Harry. After he had finished, he had shown Harry the most recent piece he had worked on, from the questioning he had done the week previously.

He had drawn, as per Harry's description, the first task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, with Harry mid-flight, the Hungarian Horntail hot on his tail. Harry then spelled it to move, watching as the drawing Harry dipped and dived, avoiding the Hungarian Horntail with speed and precision not normally possible, even for a seeker.

Harry then explained what he would be doing for the day, having to go to Gringotts to sort out some finances, before he would go shopping, looking for some books he could add to his collection. He said that he was specifically looking for books on Parselmagic, as it didn't have as much of a stigma in the Americas as it did the British Isles. Though, he wasn't holding his breath, as it was a very rare ability to have, no matter where in the world you lived.

Once they had finished breakfast, Steve took their plates to wash up, while Harry went to have a shower, laying out his formal robes on the bed before hoping in. He lathered himself up, thoroughly scrubbing off any dirt and grime that had accumulated in the past twenty four hours. He quickly ran his hands through his hair, washing out any soap, before he turned off the water, stepped out and spelled himself dry. He changed into his robes, which bore the crests of the Peverell and Slytherin houses over the heart, and pulled his shoulder length hair back into a short, low tail at the nape of his neck. He would have normally had the crests for the Black, Gryffindor and Potter houses adorning his robes too, but the true lords of those houses, at least during the forties, were still alive, forcing him to wear the lordship rings for those houses on a silver cord around his neck, as he was ineligible for representing the houses.

Once he was ready, he walked out of his room, kissing Steve goodbye for the day, before he spun on the spot, disappearing with a sharp crack. He reappeared outside Gringotts America, with a similar crack. He steadied himself before making his way into the bank, walking over to the nearest open teller.

"Good morning master Goblin" Harry started once the goblin had finished what he had been doing. "I am here to talk to my account manager, Grimclaw. It would be most appreciated if I could get my finances sorted out as quickly as possible today, as I am sure Grimclaw has more important matters to tend to than me."

The Goblin wasn't as shocked as his British counterparts would have been, as they had laws _against_ the discrimination of magical creatures in America. It also helped that American wizards were more intelligent than their British relatives, as they saw that the Goblins could potentially bankrupt a family through a series of bad investments.

"Do you have any identification?" the Goblin asked, a lot more politely than he would have in Britain.

In response, Harry draws both of his wands, the Elder Wand and his trusted Holly and Phoenix Feather wand. Passing both wands over to the Goblin, he waited patiently while the goblin examined every bump and notch, every scratch and carving made into the wood of both wands. With a nod of confirmation, the teller simply handed Harry the wands back, before calling out for another Goblin in Gobbledygook. The goblin that showed up was about waist high on Harry, and quickly beckoned him to a door on the side of the hall, leading him down a series of twisting, turning corridors that made Harry quickly lose count of the number of turns. No matter how many times he came down this hall, and it was every time he came to talk to Grimclaw, he could never remember his way out by himself.

They arrived in front of a heavy wooden door, embedded with precious metals and gems, with a gold nameplate at eye level engraved with _Grimclaw_ set into the wood. The escort knocked on the door twice, before opening it when a curt _"Enter"_ sounded through the wood. Harry stepped through, the door closing with a sharp snap behind him. In front of him sat a greying, ancient Goblin, behind a heavy, oak wood table covered in large amounts of paper work. On the walls were weapons of all sorts, from all ages, both magical and muggle types. He distinctly noticed the civil war era rifle that was hanging on the wall behind the Goblin.

"Ah, Lord Slytherin-Peverell, what a pleasure to see you again" Grimclaw called from his desk, not looking up from his paperwork. "What can I do for you today? Do please take a seat."

Taking the offered seat, Harry was quick to reply. "I would like to make some investments into some companies, and probably set about starting up a business or two. I would also like to make a two withdrawals, of equal amounts in both galleons and dollars."

"We shall start with the easiest, my Lord" Grimclaw said.

With that, Harry made a withdrawal of 200 galleons, which with the current exchange rate, equalled to a thousand dollars for Harry to use in muggle New York. He made investments in some stores in the shopping district (he now owned half of the apothecary, along with two thirds of the book store), and had started up two companies (a broom stick company, which he called the _Fire Birds_ , and his own brewery, which he named _The Riddler's Brew_ ). He wasn't too sure that the brewery would make it far, but he knew how important Quidditch was to the wizarding world, so broomsticks were always in high demand. He knew at least one of his businesses would be successful.

When Harry left Gringotts, it was midday, so he decided to head out to muggle New York for lunch. He took the lift up to the entrance in the Empire State Building, having to go from the lowest level of the shopping districts to get there, and transfigured his clothes into something more suitable for the muggles. He headed over to a small, rather unknown little Italian restaurant not far from the Empire State Building. He grabbed a bowl of spaghetti, before heading back into the shopping districts searching for rare volumes and scrolls.

 _-Line-Break-_

Steve heard the crack of Harry apperating outside their door, as he continued to work on his sketch, finishing off the design with various colours here and there. He had gotten so used to Harry's apperating that he barely jumped at the unexpected sound, which was good as he was working on a difficult part of the drawing. He had been working on this for most of the day, only stopping to get food and to go to the toilet when he needed to, and so far, he was only just finishing the first draft, with full colour.

He held up his free hand, stopping any speech from Harry as he walked in, as he was determined to finish this draft before they were forced out for drinks that night. His hand moved with the elegant grace of a dancer, moving rapidly across the page as he darkened parts of the piece here, lightened up other places there, touched it up with a bit of blue right in the middle. He took another ten minutes to finish the draft, which only seemed like seconds to Steve, as he often got lost in his work.

"So how's it going, Steve?" Harry asked, noticing he was finished.

He looked up for the first time since Harry returned and noticed that he wasn't in the clothes he had left in. He then noticed the large number of bags that sat on the kitchen counter, full of books, groceries and clothes. He stared at the bags for a number of seconds before nodding and replying "Yes, it's coming along very well. I've just finished the first draft, if you wish to see it?"

"Oh yes, I'd love to. Lemme see" Harry quickly moved over to Steve's side on the couch, peering over to get a look. He gasped in shock, at how realistic it looked to what he remembered. "My god, Steve. I don't think you need to do any more drafts. This is perfect, just how I remember it."

"Really, I got it that good on the first try?"

"Yes, yes you did, Steve. I'll have to show you" Harry replied, moving into the spare room, which they had converted into a room designated to potions, but also contained other, important magical items, such as his pensieve and a ward stone he had made specifically for the apartment. Bringing out the pensieve, he placed it on the coffee table in front of Steve. He then pulled out his wand, placed it to his head and thought of the specific memory he needed, before pulling the wand tip away from his head. From the tip of his wand hung a shimmery, silver thread that he then placed in the pensieve, mixing the shimmery fluid with his wand. "Go on, place your head in. I'll stay out here."

Though he had done this a couple of times before, he was still a little apprehensive about holding his face in a bowl of water, but did it anyway. He felt like he was falling, falling through water and oil, clouds of mist moving around everywhere, before he landed on his feet with a thump.

All around him were students of various ages, sitting at four, long wooden tables that ran the full length of the hall. Another table sat at the end of the hall, this one running perpendicular to the other four tables. On all four tables, were students wearing black robes, with stitching's showing which house they belonged to, red and gold for Gryffindor, blue and bronze for Ravenclaw, yellow and black for Hufflepuff and green and silver for Slytherin. Interspersed through the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables were other students, some in pale blue robes, and others in blood red. Harry had explained to him that these were students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.

The great hall, as Harry had explained to him, would be decorate every Halloween for the feast. This year had been no different. Pumpkins with candles held in their mouths, carved into the heads of wolves, bats, trolls and orcs floated in the air, under an enchanted ceiling. Instead of being enchanted to look like the night sky outside, it showed a full, blood red moon hang lazily in the sky, casting is blood red glow upon the hall and the enchanted clouds underneath it. Haunting music played through the hall, with the Hogwarts ghosts dancing their haunting dance, ever graceful in their movements. Enchanted skeletons and suits of armour moved around the hall, serving various students different meals and dishes, drinks and deserts. In the exact centre of the hall, stood a wooden chalice, standing on top of a wooden casket, inlayed with heavy gold and jewels. Blue, unearthly flames danced around in the chalice, casting an otherworldly glow across the students that sat near the chalice. Harry was right, he had drawn it perfectly.

A man in light purple robes stood up to speak, but before Steve could hear anything, he was pulled out of the pensieve, landing on the couch with a thump.

"So, how accurate did you get it?" he heard Harry ask, while he was still orienting himself.

"Pretty accurate, if I say so myself" Steve replied, mulling things over in his head. "Though you forgot to mention the skeletons and suits of armour serving food and drinks."

"My bad, it has been, what? Six years? And I wasn't actually served by them either, so I didn't pay much attention to them anyway."

Steve then leaned over, planting a kiss on Harry's lips. Harry quickly responded, returning the kiss as passionately as he always did. As they kissed, Steve couldn't help but wonder how he had managed to get someone as beautiful and caring as Harry was, before the thought was quickly pushed to the back of his mind. Pulling back, panting for breath, Steve stared into those glowing, emerald green eyes, marvelling at the pure beauty and wonder that flashed through them. He laid his head on Harry's chest, sighing when he heard the rhythmic _thump-thump, thump-thump_ of his heart.

He felt Harry's hand start carding its fingers through his hair, the movements massaging his scalp. He drew in a deep breath, which caused him to start coughing roughly, his asthma starting to play up again, as it usually did this time of year.

Harry immediately shifted his arm, moving his hand in slow circles on his back, helping him get over his fit. Once he had calmed down, Harry shifted Steve so he was laying on the couch, and he watched as Harry shifted into professional mode. Quickly summoning the needed potions, he banished Steve's shirt, making it easier to get to his chest to do his work.

Harry immediately placed his hands on Steve's chest, and he felt a warmth fill him as Harry pushed his magic into his chest, searching for any problems. When Harry gasped in shock, he was quickly on alert.

"St-Steve" Harry said, his voice shaky. Steve was immediately worried, Harry never sounded this troubled with his asthma. "I-I-I think you m-may have…" he gulped here, took a shaky breath, and continued, voice slightly steadier "…I think you may have cancer in your lungs."

Steve didn't hear anything else Harry heard. He fainted from shock.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hi all, Chapter five already here. Please read and review, any help with errors and constructive criticism would be welcome.**

 **Emperor Vanquest:** Okay, so you asked about the timeline? I am kinda playing around majorly with the timeline, but yes, by the time of 1943, Steve was a full super soldier. Though, according to the Wiki, Steve took the Serum in 1943. So, I have played around with the dates a little for this. Harry fell through the Veil in 2000, and landed in Steve's apartment in 1941. So far, in this chapter, it is in 1942. And yes, the draft for the war began in 1941, sometime after the eighth of December, as that was the date America joined the war.

 **Anyway, thank you all for reading, and please review. Any criticism to improve my work would be great.**

 _ **-Line-Break-**_

It had been roughly fifteen years since Harry had last sat in church. He distinctly remembered his _dear_ Aunt Petunia dragging him into the local church in Surrey in an effort to exorcise his _freakishness_. Of course, it didn't work, and he had never willingly set foot in a church after that moment, until now.

It was January of 1942, the twentieth. He was amazed at how quickly time passed since he had met Steve and Bucky, Steve especially so. He still couldn't believe that it had been a year and four days since he had crash landed on Steve's coffee table and then saved said boy from dying from an asthma attack. Of course, it was a great way to quickly make friends, not that it happened often.

He sat in the back row of pews, a set of rosary beads clutched tightly in his hand as he prayed to whatever divine was out there, hoping to find some way to help Steve get over his lung cancer.

They had gone to a doctor shortly after Harry had made the discovery, and they had indeed confirmed, unfortunately, that Steve did have cancer. They were at a loss as to _how_ he had gotten the cancer, as he had never tried smoking as he was too sickly to smoke to begin with. Harry had taken him to a wizarding healer, and he had confirmed Harry's suspicion that it had been passed on from a parent, and not caused by smoking or any other habits. Because of Steve's sickly life so far, he was not able to have any chemotherapy in order to halt the cancer, as it would kill him.

And they couldn't even get a wizarding healer to help with the cancer, as it was one of the few diseases that magic couldn't heal, even in Harry's original time.

Things between them had started to get slightly tense since Harry had found the cancer. When America had joined the war against Germany, a little over a month after the cancer was found, Steve had been adamant to enlist, to do the right thing for his country. He never took into account that he would be rejected because of his cancer, let alone all of the other problems that Steve had wrong with his health.

Harry frowned as he remembered the argument that they had had recently.

 _-Flash-Back-_

 _Bucky, in an effort to cheer up Steve and Harry, had taken them to the Modern Marvels of Tomorrow exhibition. It hadn't worked much, as they were both still rather upset in regards to the cancer, and things had started to become tense between the two. Things had come to a head when Steve had found another enlistment office, and had tried to walk in and enlist when Harry wasn't watching._

 _He had been about to walk in when Steve felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder, halting his movements. He spun around to see who the owner of the hand was, to see a disgruntled Harry standing behind him, looking very unhappy with him._

" _What, exactly, are you trying to achieve here Steve?" Harry asked, his voice laced with power, demanding an answer. It wasn't often Harry used this tone of voice with anyone, especially him, but he was certainly not happy._

" _I am trying to enlist, Harry. I'm pretty sure that was obvious?"_

 _Both men failed to notice the well-tailored man watching the two of them from inside the enlistment offices._

" _Yes, but how often do I have to tell you, they won't let you enlist? You are too sick to be going to war, Steve, and I don't want to see you end up dead because of it" Harry replied adamantly._

" _You don't know what it is like, Harry, wanting to fight for your country" Steve returned just as adamantly. "You don't know what it is like to be dying, while no one can do anything about it."_

" _That's where you're wrong Steve" Harry said, quietly so no one could hear them. The well-tailored man was still able to hear them, however. "I do know what it is like to want to serve your country. I know what it is like to go to war, and war changes people, even the best of us. I still have nightmares of the war, Steve, you know that, don't you? I still see the faces of everyone who died trying to protect me, trying to fight for their freedom. Yes, you are right, I don't know what it is like to be dying while everyone around you can do nothing. But I do know what it is like to walk to your death, knowing that everyone you love may die because of your decision. I know what it is like to have your enemy_ laugh _at you as you walk to your death, to tell you that nothing I do, even giving myself up_ willingly, _was going to save the ones I loved. I know what it is like to kill people, Steve, and it is not something I want you to go through. Do you understand me?"_

 _Steve looked at Harry with a steely look in his eye, still wanting to enlist. "This is something I have to do, Harry, and there is nothing that you can do to stop me."_

 _Harry sighed despondently, knowing a lost cause when he saw one, spinning on the spot while flinging his hands into the air with a "Fine, do what you want Steve. I'll see you at the apartment." And he started walking off, back turned to Steve, not looking back. Steve felt his heart drop at this, not knowing what to do when in a situation like this, he had never been in a relationship before this. He noticed that Harry was walking in the opposite direction to where their apartment was._

" _Where are you going, Harry? The apartment is in the other direction" Steve called out to his boyfriend. At least, he hoped he was still his boyfriend._

 _Harry stopped walking, holding his head up high, but not turning back to look at Steve. Steve's heart dropped even further. When Harry spoke, he could hear the grief and sadness, the longing and held back tears in every word he said. "I'm going to church, Steve. It seems that's the only place any one will listen to me."_

 _With that, Harry continued walking, not looking back at Steve. With a heavy heart, Steve turned back to the enlistment offices, not noticing the well-tailored man following his hopefully-still-boyfriend._

 _-Flash-Back-_

Harry couldn't hold back the tears any more at this point. He let them flow, tears running rivers down his cheeks, feeling as if he had lost his best friend, or in this case his boyfriend. He felt drops of his tears splash on his closed hands, still clasping the rosary beads between them tightly like they were a lifeline. He had never been particularly religious, but in this case, he was almost desperate.

"Please god, please help Steve" Harry started, his voice heavily laced with grief and loneliness. "I-I know, I'm not the most religious person in the world, and many would call me a demon for being who and what I am, but please I am asking you, help Steve. I can bear to see him die, or even going to war. The mere thought of seeing him dead is enough to give me nightmares." He heard the heavy wooden doors of the church being opened, as he paused briefly, before he continued, this time slightly quieter. "Please, I will do anything to see him live, even if it means giving up my title as Master of Death."

 _{Are you stupid boy? You can't give up the title of Master of Death so easily.}_

The soft, silky, feminine tones of the Hallows made Harry jump slightly. It had been months since the Hallows had talked to him, and so it was slightly unexpected of them to talk at the moment.

 _{There is more going on here than you think, boy, and falling onto faith now is not what you want. I sent you here for a reason, and you are still needed here to help.}_

"Yes, I know that, and yet you won't tell me what that reason is, will you?"

 _{No, you are right. All the information is not needed at the present time. But, I can tell you this. You must not let Steve Rogers die, under any circumstances. There is more to him than you know, boy, even from how intimate you have been. You may not have consummated your relationship with him yet, but you must understand that you will need to do it soon, for big changes are under way, for both you and him.}_

"And yet you aren't going to tell me anything, will you?"

 _{No, at least not yet. However, look to your left.}_ Harry did so, before reeling back from what seemed to be a slap to the face. _{Discreetly boy, okay. Now look to your left,_ discreetly _. Yes, that's good. The man in the suit, he is here to help you, and Steve. He will offer you a way to heal Steve completely, rid him of his problems. But Steve must accept on his own. You must accept the offer of help to you, boy. You did not have the best life growing up with your relatives before you were removed from them, and it has left its mark on you.}_

The Hallows were interrupted when the man they had mentioned walked over and sat next to Harry, smiling broadly. He exuded an air of calm around him, one that Harry couldn't help but be pulled into when he was next to the man. Harry smiled slightly, wiping away the tears that had been falling from his eyes. He waited, knowing the man would speak up first.

"Hello. I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but over hear your conversation between you and your friend outside the enlistment office. I would like to offer you some help."

"And what help would you be able to provide, sir? Steve has cancer, and no matter what we do, he will die soon. The doctors have said they can't give him any chemotherapy because he is too weak to begin with, so I don't see how you can help" Harry replied to the man, playing along so the man didn't know that Harry knew he had followed him.

"Yes, well I am a doctor. My name is Abraham Erskine, and I am working on something that can help him, you too, it seems. But I would like to ask, before I say any more, what did you mean that you had been to war? You are certainly too young to have fought in the First World War, and there have been no conflicts between the end of the war, and the current conflicts happening in Europe."

Harry stared dumfounded, floundering around for an answer, before the Hallows spoke to him again.

 _{Tell him the truth, he knows of magic. Tell him the truth, but avoid telling him about the Hallows. Tell him about you and Steve, he is more open minded than most in this decade are.}_

"Well, Doctor, I guess I should introduce myself first. My name is Harry Potter, and I think it would be best to sit back, this is a long story…"

 _-Line-Break-_

Steve had tried enlisting for the army, again, despite Harry's warning and words of advice.

He had been rejected, again, from being enlisted into the army, due to the illnesses riddling his body, and the cancer. Just like Harry had said, again, for about the tenth time since America had entered the war.

He was now lying in bed, alone. It felt weird to be sleeping alone in his bed, after close to six months since he and Harry had started dating. He knew things were getting bad with his health, and Harry was getting more and more nervous as time went on. Harry had told him once, in a simple offhand comment, that when he got nervous, he tended to shift into his Animagus form a lot more often, especially while he slept. Since it had been happening more and more often he had found out Steve had cancer, he knew something was going on.

He turned onto his side in bed, back facing the door, as tears leaked from his eyes. He didn't know why his pride got the better of him, or why he blatantly disregarded Harry's words when he knew they were true. He knew that he wasn't going to be enlisted, and yet he did it anyway. And he knew Harry was right. Church did seem like the only place where people would listen to him, and Steve knew he wasn't very religious. So to have Harry walk off on him, and to go to church of all places, Steve knew he had done something wrong.

Why, why did he have to be so selfish? Harry meant everything to him, and yet he pushed him away in favour of going to war, to more than likely walk to his death. He knew he was dying, and yet he had to be selfish and try to die on his own terms, not bothering to think about how Harry felt about that. If it hadn't been for Harry, he wouldn't be here at the moment, he wouldn't have been able to fall in love with the most beautiful man he had ever known. And yet he had to go and be so damn selfish to the most caring man he knew, he was sure he had blown it.

He heard muffled footsteps and voices, but didn't bother getting the door. He knew if it were Bucky or Harry, they would let themselves in. He certainly wasn't expecting to hear Harry as he opened the door, talking in what seemed to be German to an older man, also speaking in German. It took him a moment to understand what, exactly, they were saying, but none of what they were talking about was making any sense to him.

"Thank you, doctor, I'll be sure to talk to him about it" he heard Harry saying, in fluent German. It didn't surprise him that Harry spoke it, it was just the fact that he _was_ speaking in German that confused him. "I know I will definitely take you up on your offer, but I'm not entirely sure about Steve. He seems pretty adamant to not listen to me at the moment."

"That is entirely okay, Mister Potter" Steve heard an older man reply, still confused to what they were talking about. "I understand that you will only ever take the Serum if Steve accepts my offer, so I won't hold it to you if you refuse because he does. But, from what I have heard about young Steve from you, he will assuredly want to take it. When will we be able to meet up again, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Well, it's Monday tomorrow, and I do have to meet up with my account manager tomorrow, but that won't be until around four in the afternoon. So, how about eleven thirty at the Empire State Building tomorrow morning, and I will bring Steve along. That is, if he listens to me for once." The last bit was said quieter, and slightly bitterly, than the rest, and Steve had to strain his hearing to catch it. He let out a small sob upon hearing the way he said it, not able to hold onto his emotions for much longer. He stayed quiet though, so that the two men didn't hear him.

"That shall be fine, Mister Potter" the older man said. "I will see you tomorrow, then it seems. Have a good night."

"You too, Doctor Erskine. I shall see you tomorrow with Steve" Harry returned, before closing the door, an audible click signalling the lock clicking into place. Steve waited for Harry to come to bed, so he could apologise, and to explain why he had done what he had done, and yet, Harry never came to bed.

When Steve woke in the morning, he was still alone in his bed, having cried himself to sleep when he realised Harry was not coming to bed that night. He was still upset about how he had acted the night before, and was sincerely sorry for what had happened. But He wasn't too sure about what Harry was feeling after how selfish he had been. Would Harry still be happy to be with him?

When Steve finally got up, he slowly made his way to the lounge room, where he knew Harry had slept the night before. He saw the black haired beauty sleeping on the couch, on his side with a ray of muted sunlight splashed across his closed eyes. He was obviously awake, but trying to get back to sleep, but with a groan, he opened his emerald green eyes, while his hair flashed between an angry red, bright purple and turquoise, before settling back to black. Steve knew this meant that Harry was annoyed, still tired and happy, all at the same time.

He had been slightly shocked when Harry had shown him his Metamorphmagus powers, but found it highly amusing when he tried to hide his emotions from Bucky and Steve, and his hair changed colour, showing how he was really feeling. He usually had tight control over it, however, and when he was waking up was one of the few times he wasn't in much control.

Steve just stood in the doorway to his room, staring at Harry, his love for the man written clear as day across his face. But he stayed silent, as he was still worried that Harry felt differently about him after the argument. Harry made his way over to the kitchen, setting the kettle to boil with a wave of his hand, as he pulled out bacon, eggs and sausages from the fridge, as coffee and sugar was spooned itself into a mug for Harry. He watched as Harry pulled out a frying pan and oil, and quickly set to cooking breakfast. Bacon and sausage started sizzling on the pan, while Harry whisked together eggs, salt and pepper, along with various other ingredients, to make the batter for scrambled eggs.

"You can come out, you know, Steve. This is your apartment, after all" Harry called from the kitchen, knowing Steve was there, despite not having looked in his direction the whole time he had woken.

Steve cautiously made his way over towards the kitchen, sitting on one of the barstools behind the counter, watching as Harry deftly moved around the kitchen, plates and cutlery flying around him as he did so. A mug of steaming hot coffee was placed in front of him, along with his medication and a cool glass of orange juice. Popping the pills in his mouth, he swallowed them down with a swig of juice, before moving on to the coffee to wake himself up properly.

It was when he finished his swig of coffee that Harry seemed to be _happy_ , despite their argument the night before. And despite everything that had happened since Halloween. Harry spoke once he had finished his own coffee.

"I see you got rejected from the army again, Steve" he started. Steve could only nod, seeing as Harry was right about everything now. He was so stupid. "I could say it's a good thing, but knowing you, you're going to keep trying, so I can't say much." He plated up the bacon, eggs and sausages before passing one over to Steve, and pulling a second towards himself. Bucky had not come home that night, so there was nothing left for him to eat.

They ate in silence, the dishes used to cook the food cleaning themselves, sponges and wire brushes moving to clean off the grease by themselves.

"Do you still want to join the army, Steve?"

The question shocked him, not the spontaneity of it, but rather the contents of the question itself. If he said yes, Harry would leave, was the first thought that ran through his head. That was irrational. There was more to this than meets the eye, especially with the man from last night he heard with Harry. He pondered over the question for a minute, before he answered with "Why do you want to know? You aren't going to leave if I still do, will you?"

Harry certainly seemed shocked with the second question, his hair turning hot pink for a split second, before he quickly reigned in his emotions. He quickly replied with "No, I will never leave you, Steve. I've told you that before. I won't be happy that you would still want to join the army while you're as sick as you are, but I guess I should respect your decision. I did run into my war, knowing full well I would probably wind up dead because of it. But the decision is all yours." Here he pushed his food away, and checked his pocket watch. Steve did so too, noticing it was half past nine in the morning. Looking up from his watch, he noticed Harry staring at him, before Harry continued. "I'm interested, because when I went to the church last night, I met someone who has promised me that he can heal you."

"You mean he can heal my cancer?" Steve asked, shocked that someone could do such a thing.

"Not just your cancer, but everything else as well. Your asthma, vitamin deficiency, stunted growth. Everything will be cured."

"But there's a catch, isn't there?"

"Yes, there is" Harry said quietly. "He offered it to me too. Promised to help fix my stunted growth, fix my injuries from the war and from my _adventures_ while I was at school. And I promised him that I would do it, but only if you did it too, because you need it more than me. However, the catch is, is that it is an experiment for the Army, to try and breed a race of super soldiers, to help fight in the war. So that's why I was asking. Do you still want to join the army, or don't you? Something like this doesn't come around often, Steve, and despite what I said last night, I suggest you take it. If you want to, be ready by eleven. We are going to meet the doctor at eleven thirty."

Steve didn't get to answer him, as Harry moved away, half empty plate moving away to wash itself as he got up, moving to their shared room to get refreshed and ready for the day ahead. He merely sat at the kitchen counter, pondering what exactly he should do. He knew Harry didn't want him to join the army, but he was going to die. The army wouldn't enlist him with all of his medical problems, so that option was out. But he could get into the army through this experiment, even if it meant being a guinea pig to some scientist. Decisions, decisions, decisions.

 _-Line-Break-_

Harry led the good doctor and Steve through the wizarding district, heading straight for the bank, where he had booked a conference room for the three of them to talk in. He had also decided that he could get his business sorted out while he was there, so he was in a slightly better mood than this morning. Of course, he wasn't exactly happy with the way Steve had acted the night before, but he wasn't going to ignore him. At least, not forever.

Doctor Erskine stared around him, amazed at all of the wonders of the shopping district, hidden underneath the Empire State Building. Even Steve hadn't been this far down, only going to the pubs, and a few of the shops that were on the lower end of the scale, more for muggleborns than for purebloods. He turned on the two muggles, making sure to stare the two men in the eye, halting them in their tracks. "Whatever you do, do not stare at the Goblins. They are proud creatures, and can be easily offended if you stare at them for too long. Keep your eyes down, and don't stare, okay?"

Both men nodded, before following his instructions, as they walked through the large, heavy golden doors, emblazoned with the warning for thieves. If they read the warning, they showed no outward sign of having read it to Harry.

He quickly made his way over to an unoccupied teller, who was weighing large diamonds, as big as Harry's fist. The scratching of quills on paper seemed to echo across the bank, before the Goblin finally looked up.

"Yes, wizard. I do not have all day" the Goblin said, its voice laced with annoyance towards the young man.

Harry was quick to reply. "I do not mean to waste your time, Master Goblin, but I have an appointment with my account manager, Grimclaw, and have also booked a private conference room for twelve o'clock."

Before the Goblin could ask for identification, Harry had handed over two wands, surprising the Goblin, with widened eyes, before quickly doing the necessary tests, confirming that this was, indeed, the man in question. Handing back the wands, the Goblin quickly called out for an escort before calling out for the next customer.

Thanking the Goblin behind the desk, Harry, Steve and Erskine made their way through the mess of corridors, ending up in front of a familiar door, to Harry at least. When they were bade entrance, Harry was quickly inside, followed by the other two men, both of whom were questioning Harry at this point. Harry came to a stop in front of the desk, not making a move to sit in one of the chairs that sat in front of him.

"Ah, Lord Slytherin-Peverell, it is a pleasure to see you again" Grimclaw said from behind his desk, still writing furiously in the ledger. "Please, have a seat, all of you." Once they were seated, the Goblin continued. "What can I help you with today?"

"I think it is about time we shut down the brewery. It isn't turning a profit as expected" Harry started, getting straight down to business. "I would also like to increase funding for the broom shop. I understand they are the best brooms on the market now, and I want new ones released before the Quidditch World Cup. More than likely, the teams will want the best on the market, and mine are now the best. So I want to make them better."

"Of course, my lord" Grimclaw said, quickly noting it down. "How much would you like to increase funding by? The current stands at three hundred galleons a week."

"Make it five hundred than, I'm sure they can figure out what to do."

"Is there anything else my lord?"

At this, Harry looked over at Erskine and Steve, who were both staring dumbstruck by Harry being so…in command.

"I understand there are a number of charities for those with incurable diseases, correct?" At a nod from Grimclaw, Harry continued. "I would like to make monthly donations of ten thousand galleons to each and every charity researching cures for incurable diseases. I would also like to make a monthly donation of five thousand galleons a month to those refugees who are fleeing to America from Europe. Once the war is over, continue the donations for another two years, and then cease them. By then, Europe should be back on its feet."

The Goblin continued writing down on a piece of parchment everything Harry wanted done, before coming to an abrupt halt. "It will be done my lord. Is there anything else?"

"One last thing, and then that will be all" Harry said, if slightly hesitantly. He moved his hands up to the back of his neck, unclasping the short, thin silver chain from around his neck. Hanging from the chain was three lordship rings, those of the Potter, Gryffindor and Black lordships. "In my personal vault, there is a small wooden box on a pedestal in the center. Place this inside, and I would also like you to get the box that is inside it." He placed the chain and rings on the desk before the Goblin, before standing up. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, yet again, Master Grimclaw. However, I have booked a conference room for an important meeting here, so if you don't mind providing an escort, it would be greatly approved."

"Of course, my lord. It is done. And May your enemies tremble before you as you speak."

"And may your halls always be filled with gold." Harry returned, with a polite nod. He quickly turned on his heel, walking to the door, where another goblin was waiting, Erskine and Steve followed shortly behind him.

When they made it to the conference room, it was just after twelve, and so the Goblins were kind enough to provide lunch for the three humans. When they were sated with food, Harry quickly turned to Erskine.

"I am sorry for that, but I didn't have much business to attend to, so I thought it would be quicker to get it over with before we got started."

"It is quite alright, Mister Potter. Or should I say Lord Slytherin-Peverell?"

"No, just Potter is fine by me. Or Harry, if you want. Anyway, onto the reason for why we are here, shall we?" At a nod from both men, Harry continued. "Doctor Erskine, this is my boyfriend Steve Rogers (Steve choked on his drink when he said this). Steve, this is Doctor Abraham Erskine, he is the man I told you about that can heal you."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Steven" Erskine said, extending a hand out for Steve to shake. "I have heard a lot about you form Harry, but I must see for myself if you are the right person for my Serum. So tell me, Steven, why do you want to kill Nazis?"

Steve thought about it for a minute, before answering. "I do not want to kill anyone, Doctor. But they are bullies, and bullies should be stopped before they take it too far. If I had to kill them, I would, but I do not _want_ to kill anyone."

Doctor Erskine turned to Harry, a smile on his face before he spoke to Harry. "Normally, I would not have chosen you for the Serum. You are powerful enough on your own. But, I see a man, powerful, yes, but scared of his own power. You would prefer to help others, whether you know them or not, rather than use that power to control, and all the while, you are scared of the power you hold. While Steve would be a great man, for having been weak his whole life and finally having the strength to stand up for others, someone like you would be a greater man for being afraid of the power he wields. I think, the two of you would be perfect for the Serum."

A Goblin walked in after that, carrying papers for Harry to sign, and a small, white wood box, which he immediately placed into his pocket after checking what was inside. He signed all the documents with a blood quill, ensuring that they were now binding documents.

Once the Goblin had left, Harry stood, shaking the good doctor's hand, a broad grin on his face. "Thank you, Doctor Erskine. It is a pleasure working with you. So, when are we going to get started?"

 _-Line-Break-_

It had been two weeks since Doctor Erskine had accepted them for his Serum. Two weeks at boot camp, Camp Lehigh, and Steve felt like he was dying. Which he was. The cancer had been more aggressive then they had predicted, and was getting worse by the day. The good thing, though, was that it was now finally the day they would be taking the Serum, so he would be cured of his cancer, and everything else for that matter. He and Harry were in the back of a car, with Agent Peggy Carter, who kept staring at Harry with apprehension. He was slightly worried by the look, but Harry didn't seem to care.

The drive seemed to take longer than it should have, but they kept quiet the whole time. When the car came to a stop, Steve was a little confused. They were meant to be going to a lab, not a pawn shop. Stepping out and following Carter seemed like the best idea, however, and so he and Harry followed, a quizzical look on Harry's face too.

Once in the store, Carter gave some form of pass code to the owner of the shop, he didn't catch it, and followed her through the secret passage that opened up behind the owner. Harry clamped his hand on Steve's shoulder, making him calm down a bit, before they made their way into the lab itself. It was a large, round room, with two containers in the center on a lower level, with a viewing area on the level they were on.

"Ah, Harry, Steven, it is a pleasure to meet you again. Please, come down, we are just about ready" Erskine called out to them when they reached the railing. The two boys made their way down the metal stairs, quick to meet their friend. In the two weeks since meeting him, he had become a quick friend to the boys, sue to them being rather lonesome while at boot camp.

"It is a pleasure to see you again too, doctor. Have you still got some of that schnapps for us to share after this?" Steve asked the older man.

"I'm afraid I may have drunk a little _too_ much last night. But, we can still share a drink, I am sure. Now, take off your shirts, and get in the pods, we are about to start."

The boys quickly shucked off their shirts, tie and hat, standing in the lab in nothing but their pants. They weren't shy people, but with so many people watching them, they were starting to feel awkward. Getting in the pods like Erskine asked, the doctor was handed a microphone to talk to the crowd.

"Testing, testing. Is this thing on? Good. Now, Ladies and Gentlemen, today is an extraordinary day. Today, is the day, we finally start the first stage of Project Rebirth."


	6. Chapter 6

"Testing, testing. Is this thing on? Good. Now, Ladies and Gentlemen, today is an extraordinary day. Today, is the day, we finally start the first stage of Project Rebirth."

The various diplomats, politicians and news reporters here ready to view the experiment, all quickly sat down. Everyone was quiet, as more scientists ran into the room, turning machines on, and making sure that everything was working correctly before they started.

"Good, now that everyone is seated, I shall begin" Erskine continued, seemingly oblivious to the workers around him. "To begin with, we shall be injecting thee two men here, with the Super Soldier Serum. Once injected, we shall subject them to a Vita Ray bath, which will activate the Serum, enhancing everything about them. It shall promote muscle growth, and enhance brain function, metabolism, and increases the input from their senses. They will, effectively, become super human."

There was light applause from the doctor's speech, before he turned to one of the men working the machines.

"Are you ready, Mister Stark?"

A brunette across the room shot his head up, at the sound of his name. A smile on his face, he called back "We may dim half the lights in Brooklyn, Doctor, but it will certainly be worth it."

"Of course it will be" Erskine called back, before returning the microphone, and pulling a syringe from the metal table next to him. He turned around, and jabbed it into Steve's previously prepared arm, before injecting its contents.

"That didn't hurt, doctor" Steve whispered to the doctor.

"Of course not, Steven. It was merely penicillin" Erskine replied, as he proceeded to jab Harry's prepared arm, injecting the penicillin into him as well.

Lab assistants ran into the room, pushing a large, metal cylinder between them, before opening it, revealing vials of a blue liquid, which were then collected, and inserted into holes on either side of each pod, six vials per pod. Large pads, with needles covering their surfaces, were placed on Harry's and Steve's chest and arms, the needles piercing the flesh easily. On Erskine's orders, the liquid in the vials was pumped through a series of tubes and was injected directly into their bloodstreams.

They both winced as the concoction worked its way through their blood streams, pumping through their bodies even quicker once it reached their hearts, a slight burning following its movement trough their bodies.

"It is now time for the Vita Ray bath. Mister Stark, if you please?" Erskine announced.

At the push of a button, the pods closed by themselves, and rose off the floor, as Stark started to power up the machine.

"Ten percent… twenty percent… thirty percent…"

The glass pane on the front of the pod started to emit a bright, almost blinding, light, as the pod began to shake from the amount of electricity that ran through it.

"Forty percent… fifty percent… sixty percent…"

The screaming started once the energy levels spike at sixty percent. Screams of pain as every muscle and bone cell was broken down and reformed, multiplying and growing at an exponential rate. Though the audience seemed confused, as the screams only emanated from Steve's pod.

Peggy carter ran out of the viewing room, running up to the railing preventing falls, and called out "Shut it off. Shut it off now, it's killing him!"

Stark went to shut it off, before a shout of "Don't" rang through the lab. This one, though, came from Harry's pod. "Don't stop it now. Steve needs this." His voice was laced with pain, pain that had been chained down and barely contained for him to speak up. He drew in a shaky breath, gritting his teeth in pain before he spoke again, Steve's screams still echoing through the lab. "Come on, Steve, you can do this. Push through the pain, like I taught you. You control the pain, it doesn't control you."

The screams continued for a number of minutes, before finally coming to a stop. Steve's voice spoke up, shaky and hoarse from the screaming. "Go on, Stark. Let's finish this already."

With a shaky nod from Stark, and a hesitant nod from Erskine, Stark continued to up the power, calling out the levels until they hit a hundred percent.

"We-we must now let them stand for exactly two minutes, before we turn off the power" Erskine announced to the audience, a little shakily. Everyone in the lab waited with baited breath as the light continued to stream from the pods, as the Vita Rays continued to stimulate the Serum into doing its job. When Erskine announced the end of the two minutes, Stark began powering down the pods.

It was here that the problems began.

As much as Stark had flipped the switch on the machine, the power continued to surge forward, powering the pods into giving the two men the Vita Ray baths. Erskine watched in horror as the power continued to surge, and wondered how it was going to affect the two men. They didn't deserve to die because of this accident.

And then the screams started up again, horrific, bone chilling, soul piercing screams, filled with the pain of a dying race. The screams, however, only came from Harry's pod, as it shook with Harry's efforts to escape from the pain. Steve started screaming for Harry, calling out for him as the screams began to get worse and worse the longer the power continued to surge.

Without warning, a blast of energy burst from Harry's pod, tearing the metal apart, blasting shrapnel across the lab, and opening the pod up. The blast of energy tore through the room, sinking into all of the electronics, shorting them out and forcing the remaining pod to stop giving the bath of Vita Rays to Steve. Erskine rushed over, forcing the remaining pod open, allowing Steve to step out of the pod. Before him stood Steve, about a foot taller than he had been before he entered the pod, and covered from head to toe, in thick, strong muscles that could, no doubt, do serious damage if he intended to.

Erskine moved to the side, allowing Steve to step out of the pod, while doctors and nurses swarmed him, trying to see what the results were. He turned from the crowd, looking to where Harry's pod had been, expecting to see Harry's dead body lying on the floor from the explosion.

How wrong he was.

Kneeling on the floor, face bowed to the floor as if in deep thought, or in prayer, was Harry, his thick, messy black locks defying. Surrounding him, as if in defence, and coming from back, were a payer of beautiful, black feathered wings, looking much like a ravens wings. Harry too, like Steve, was obviously taller and muscle bound, his now thick, heavy frame shuddering as he drew in breath after shaky breath.

"S-S-S-S-Steve, I-I-I-I, I need S-S-S-Ste-Ste-Steve" Harry forced out, his voice cracked and shaking with pain.

"Steven, Harry needs you. And immediately" Erskine called out, worry filling his voice.

Steve forced his way through the crowd, standing next to Erskine for a mere second, before striding over to Harry, and kneeling at his side.

 _-Line-Break-_

Steve forced his way through the crowd of people when he heard Doctor Erskine calling him, trying to ignore the weird, warm feeling that now sat in his chest, just under his heart. When he saw Harry's prone, shaking form, he quickly rushed over, kneeling down at Harry's side. He felt taller, stronger than he had ever felt before. It felt amazing, yet awkward at the same time. His limbs were longer, heavier than he was used to. It would take a while to regain perfect control again.

"Harry? Harry, what's wrong? Tell me, Harry, please" Steve called to his boyfriend, worry filling his voice at his shaking body.

He felt a surge of power cross over his body, the new warmth in his chest jumping at the sensation. He quickly noticed that Harry's metamorphmagus abilities started to become uncontrollable, the moment the power surged over them. He was trying to hold in the strain, Steve realised. Before he knew it, he had been pulled into a kiss, and, despite those around them watching, he leaned into the kiss, revelling in the feel of Harry's lips on his own, as Harry's new wings folded around them both, shielding them from the sight of others. He hadn't been able to do this in two weeks, they had been so worried they would have been caught while at boot camp.

He felt a surge of energy pass through Harry, and into him, pooling into the warmth in his chest, as it seemed to grow as the surge continued. With a gasp for breath, they pulled apart, their foreheads pressed together, as the surge of energy snapped shut.

"It's been too long since we've done this" Harry said, still gasping for breath.

"But in front of all of these people? We could be imprisoned, Harry" Steve replied, concern lacing his voice.

"I put up a privacy ward when you knelt down. They didn't see it, trust me. They are seeing us standing, shaking hands in congratulations. It's all okay."

"So that's what I felt. That surge of energy that was the privacy ward?"

"Hmm? Wait, you felt that? That's not right. Hang on. I'll check it out later, they want to talk to us."

They separated, before the surge of energy fell into Harry, and Steve felt it again. He would almost say it was magic. They both stood from the floor, Harry a little shakily as he was still getting used to the new height. Some of the women openly stared at their bare torsos, before Erskine handed over two shirts for them to wear, and they hastily threw them on. Though the shirts were larger than what they usually wore, they were still tight on their muscle bound frames.

"How do you feel, boys?" Erskine asked, after they had fixed up their shirts.

"Taller" they replied simultaneously, which sent chuckles throughout the surrounding crowd.

Before they could do anything else, an explosion blew the glass out of the viewing area, sending everyone to the ground. Three gunshots rang out, and as Harry and Steve looked up from their positions on the ground, they noticed one of the reporters aiming his gun at Erskine, who was clutching his chest in pain. The reporter grabbed the last remaining vial of the Super Soldier Serum, before running up the stairs, and out of the door.

Acting on instinct, Harry yelled out "Steve, you get the shooter, I'll help the doctor."

Steve bolted up from the floor, running up the stairs and out the door like a bullet, his new, powerful legs pushing him harder and faster than ever before. While he chased the shooter down the street, after crashing through the window of the Pawn shop, and then into the display window of a dress shop, Harry clambered over to the doctor, erected a privacy ward and set to work trying to save the man that had helped him and Steve.

As he knelt by the doctor's side, his magic surged without warning and pushed its way through his body, centring on his eyes. His vision, now perfected and enhanced due to the serum, blurred, and he shut his eyes, trying to stop the stinging that had started up. When the stinging stopped, he opened his eyes, and looked down at Erskine, slowly bleeding out on the ground. He gasped at what he saw.

Doctor Erskine's chest glowed a vibrant, angry red, as if in warning, while his limbs and head glowed a faint yellow. He narrowed his eyes, and information seemed to swarm his mind, telling him that the doctor suffered from severe arthritis in his hands, and minor arthritis in his knees and elbows. That explained the yellow glow. When Harry narrowed his eyes on Erskine's chest, the flood of information told him that he had a punctured lung, two shattered ribs and a severed spinal cord. This wouldn't be easy.

He shook his head, quickly setting to work with healing the doctor. He banished the bullets that were lodged in the doctor's chest, before he quickly set to work healing the punctured lung, hisses of parseltongue echoing through the room. The tissue of Erskine's lung quickly knit itself back together, quicker than his healing had done ever before, and then moved on, mending and resetting the shattered ribs, before healing the burst veins, and finally knitting the skin back together, as if nothing had happened.

"Doctor, are you okay?" Harry asked tentatively, knowing that he was, just wanting the doctors input.

"Yes, I am fine. Thank you, Harry" Erskine replied, his thick, German accent slurring some of the words.

"Unfortunately, the next bit will be painful, and I can't reduce the pain. Is that okay with you, Doctor?"

"Of course, Harry, do what you must."

Moving quickly, because nerve damage would be permanent if not tended to as quickly as possible, he turned the old doctor on his side, so he could get closer to his spine. Placing his hands over the damaged area, he started muttering in parseltongue, pushing his magic through his hands, making it swirl around the severed cord of nerves, as they were pulled together, and started to mend. Erskine let out a silent howl of pain, as a sharp, burning pain lanced up his back, ending at the base of his skull, as he felt the nerves in his spine being knit back together.

When the nerves were finished being healed, Harry continued to hiss in parseltongue, easing as much pain as he possibly could. When he had done as much as he could, he leaned back, as the Doctor sat up slowly, testing his back as he did so.

"Thank you, Harry. I-I don't know how to repay you-" Erskine said after a few moments of silence, before being cut off by Harry.

"You don't need to repay me at all, Doctor. I was merely helping a friend. And consider it repayment for what you have done for Steve and I."

Erskine smiled, before nodding his head in thanks. As he went to get up, however, Harry placed a palm on his chest, stopping him from rising to his feet.

"Doctor, before you get up, I have reason to believe that the Army will abuse the Serum, and use it for more than what they are saying they will. I think it will be best, if we were to fake your death, Doctor."

Erskine seemed to think it over for a bit, before answering. "Yes, I believe you are right, my dear boy. What have you got in store for us?"

Harry looked around, finding a piece of shrapnel lying next to the doctor's foot. Grabbing it, Harry willed it to grow and morph, pushing his magic into his hands to make it work. His magic seemed to be working quicker for him, since he had taken the serum. He still hadn't noticed the wings on his back, though, which the doctor had started to stare at.

The shrapnel quickly took the form of the doctor sitting on the floor next to him, though the fake was covered in blood, and obviously dead looking. Harry turned to the real doctor now, and looked him in the eye.

"Go to our apartment, under the welcome mat is a spare key. Lock the door once you are inside, and don't answer the door unless you hear the phrase 'Primo Victoria, Attero Dominatus.' Okay?"

"Of course, but what are you going to do about those?" Erskine asked, pointing to Harry's new wings.

Turning his head, Harry gasped again at the sight of the pair of black, raven like wings surrounding him and the doctor. He flexed muscles he didn't know he had, and watched in amazement as the wings shifted, moving around at the slightest twitch. How was he going to hide these?

Without warning, and a slight sting of pain, the wings seemed to fold in on themselves, before shifting down, and merging with his back. As they did so, he watched tattoo like markings formed on his shoulders, and moved down his arms. They seemed to form a design that looked like feathers, coming to end at the backs of his hands, ending at his knuckles. He shook his head, to remove the shock.

"We can explain this once we get back to the apartment, okay. Before you leave-" Here, Harry reached up and tapped his forefinger to Erskine's forehead, and watched as his figure slowly dissolved, leaving a faint outline of where the doctor was. "-You can leave now, no one will see you. Just try not to touch anyone as you walk. Remember, 'Primo Victoria, Attero Dominatus.'"

Harry heard a whispered "Okay" before he saw the faint outline of the doctor get to his feet, and soon lost the outline amongst the crowd of people, trying to see what was wrong with the doctor. Harry hastily lowered the ward around him and the fake doctor, before turning to the crowd and saying, in a voice full of sorrow "The doctor is dead."

 _-Line-Break-_

The rest of the day passed quickly, with Steve returning to the lab with the announcement that the shooter had committed suicide by cyanide pill, and that the remaining vial of the Serum had been destroyed in the fight. Harry had quickly informed Steve that their plan to get the doctor out had worked, before they had proceeded to give more blood than they had thought possible in an attempt to help the army synthesise more of the Serum.

Harry had almost jumped Steve when he had first seen him after chasing the shooter, and it had done bad things for his anatomy downstairs. He had been forced to place a glamour over the area in an effort to hide the now large bulge in his pants that just _wouldn't go down, dammit_. He couldn't wait for when he could climb his boyfriend like a tree, and by the look in Steve's eyes, he knew Steve wanted to as well.

When they had _finally_ returned to their apartment, and given the phrase they had agreed upon, Erskine had let them in, before Harry had run some tests of his own on Steve. What he found, had shocked him greatly.

Steve had, all along, been a squib. Either he had been left in the care of muggles, or he had been born from a long line of squibs, Harry wasn't sure. But due to the serum, and Erskine having said "It enhances everything that is already there", the tiny core of magic that had been too small for use, had grown to make Steve an actual wizard. Which explained the warmth Steve had felt in his chest after stepping out of the pod. It was the presence of actual magic in his system that he could now use. Steve had almost done a small jig, he had been so happy. Harry had also found that there were no longer any traces of the cancer in Steve's system, and at Erskine's insistence, they believed that they would _both_ no longer be affected by illnesses again. Or be able to get drunk, but Harry had a way around that.

Another shock they had both received was that Steve and Harry were, in fact, soul mates, though Harry didn't know how he hadn't noticed it before, though he believed that it had been the absence of Steve's magic that had made it next to impossible to know. Harry had actually done a jig around the living room when he had found that out. It was very rare for anyone, wizard or muggle to find their soul mate, and he had been over the moon in joy that he had found his. It had also explained why Steve had felt so heartbroken when Harry had not returned to bed after their fight. The absence of Harry's magic, which had been trying to bind them together for the twelve months they had known each other, had been too much for Steve. The fact that they both had a proper magical core now, would make the binding quicker and permanent.

When they tried to explain Harry's new wings, which he found was more comfortable to have out in the open than hidden as his tattoos, they were at a loss. The serum had enhanced so much in the two of them, that there seemed to be no end to the changes. They would probably be still finding out new things two decades later. But when Harry felt his magic, he found it _thrumming_ under his skin, no longer contained in his core. He believed that his magic had gotten so enhance, thanks to the serum, that it had been forced to create a physical representation of his strength, so as not to harm him with the amount of magic that now ran through his system. He hadn't tried it yet, but he believed he could fly with them, too.

They then got to work on sorting out faking Erskine's death. The transfiguration that Harry had done to the piece of shrapnel, he was sure would last until the fake body was buried at the funeral, in a week. He had gone so far as to put a confundus charm on the fake body, to fool any doctors working on the autopsy into thinking they had done it when they hadn't. Harry hadn't been too sure that he had done _that_ good of a job at transfiguration, so he had made precautions.

The next stage of their plan, was setting Erskine up for life, and getting him a new name. When they had found out that Erskine preferred the cold climates of the German Alps, they had immediately bought a small house, on a large plot of land, about a half hour outside of Vancouver. They had had the Goblins write up passports, change of name forms, forms for a change of citizenship and many other forms for the doctor to fill out and sign. Harry had, graciously, given the doctor the forms for a bank account, which had been filled with enough money for the doctor to live comfortably without working for the rest of his life. He had tried to refuse, but Harry had kept claiming it was payment for his help.

Erskine stayed the night, being fed delectable food for both dinner and breakfast before he left the next morning for a plane flight to Vancouver, taking what little belongings he still had on him. His passports had been sent that morning, filled out with his new identity of 'Alexander Brauer', who was a German war refugee, who had gone to America first, before moving to Vancouver. Or, that was what his cover story was.

Once they got back to their apartment, before the door was shut, Harry was slammed against the wall, Steve's tongue forcing its way into Harry's mouth. Harry, at first shocked by the suddenness of Steve's actions, leaned in, pushing back with his own tongue, while he wrapped his arms around Steve's waist, pulling him in closer, grinding their hardons together, gasping as jolts of electricity shot through their bodies.

The quickly pulled apart, gasping and panting for air, as they pushed their foreheads together, gazing into each-other's eyes. They smiled, as they both realised they were both finally ready for what was to come.

"Shall we move this _adventure_ to the bedroom?" Harry asked, his voice low and husky, causing a shiver to run down Steve's spine. Without answering, Steve wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, and lifted him off the floor, despite Harry's new bulk, and wrapped Harry's legs around his own waist. Effortlessly, he moved to their room, carrying Harry with him, as Harry started to lay kisses along his strong, defined jaw.

Their shirts didn't last long once they made it to their room, Harry on his back, with Steve looming over him, as they began to explore each-others new bodies, hands lips and tongue roaming across the large ridges formed by their stomachs, the high mountains of their chest's, the flat, smooth plains of their backs.

"S-Steve…Fuck me, Steve" Harry eventually growled out.

"Are-are you sure, Harry?" Steve asked, bewildered by the fact that Harry had said that.

"Go ahead, Steve. With everything you've been through, you deserve to go first."

Mind still running a mile a minute, they hastily undid their pants, shucking off the unneeded material as quickly as possible, doing the same with their boxers. Steve stared at the glory of his naked boyfriend, marvelling at the beautiful man in front of him, before he set to work pleasuring the both of them. He decided, since they had been waiting so long, that he would skip the foreplay, and head straight to the fun part of the day.

Harry muttered a spell as Steve lined himself up, still marvelling at how big his dick was now, thanks to the Serum, which helped to lube and open up his passage, though he didn't think it would be enough. Harry felt the large head of Steve's dick lining up with his hole, and tried to relax. Steve pushed forward, pushing the head into Harry with a slight _pop_ , gaining a gasp of pleasure from Harry in return. He continued to push into Harry, marvelling at the warmth of his mate's passage, the tightness of it as he pushed further, reaching the halfway point. Steve was still marvelling at the change, he hadn't even been half this size before the serum.

As he continued to push in, Harry started squirming under him, his face a look of pure ecstasy. Once he had sheathed all twelve inches of himself in Harry, who was gasping and shuddering in pure pleasure, he reached a hand down, fondling Harry's equally large length, grasping it at the base, and slowly pumping Harry's length, eliciting moans from the squirming lump of flesh beneath him. He let go, before he slowly began pulling out, leaving only the head in, before he slammed back in, his orange sized balls bouncing off of Harry's firm ass. He continued doing this, out, then in, out, then in, before he hit a spot that had Harry screaming his name in pure ecstasy. Smirking, Steve ground his hips into Harry's ass, moving himself around as much as he could while sheathed in Harry's tight passage, massaging that spot as much as he could, eliciting more moans from Harry.

He started properly fucking Harry then, moving as fast as he could in Harry's ass. He brought a hand down to Harry's length, and started pumping Harry to the same rhythm that he was fucking Harry with. They felt a pressure building within their groins, as their magic floated around them unchecked, swirling in a maelstrom of emotions, as it grew stronger and stronger with each passing second.

Without warning, Harry came, releasing his seed between them, large, white gobs splattering across their chests. Harry's passage tightened and constricted around Steve's dick, and before he could say anything, he too came, emptying his heavy balls deep into Harry's ass, as they kissed tenderly, both men still riding the high that came after having sex.

Steve collapsed on Harry's chest, panting hard, but a smile threatening to split his face in half. He felt happy, and complete, the soul mate bond finally having completely formed during the sex. He felt Harry's arms wrap around his waist, while his length was still buried deep inside Harry. He looked up, and smiled even wider, if that were possible, at the look on Harry's face.

"So" Harry said, breaking the easy silence surrounding them. "You want to go again?"

 _ **-Line-Break-**_

 **A/N: Hey there, Guys. Sorry about the wait, but that last scene was annoying to write, and I didn't want anyone seeing me writing it, so I kept putting it off. Anyway, I have something important to say.**

 **The first three people to PM me with the translation of 'Primo Victoria, Attero Dominatus' will be told how the scene in the Valkyrie will be played out.**

 **Anyway, all that aside, I hope you liked the new chapter, and I would love for you to review, to help me improve in any places where my writing is lacking.**


	7. Chapter 7

_Hello_ Parseltongue

It had been a little over eighteen months since Harry and Steve had been given the serum, and it had been a long, tiring, and somewhat humiliating eighteen months. They had been forced to give blood samples after Erskine's 'Death', had attended Erskine's 'Funeral' and had been given a job offer by one of the governors so that they weren't used in experiment after experiment to see the limits of the Super Soldier Serum. When Steve had accepted the jobs for the both of them, Harry had very nearly throttled Steve when he found out what kind of job he had accepted.

They were then show boated and paraded across the country, raising money for the war effort, doing shows in every state capital and every other city almost three times a day, every day, until they had made it to where they were now. Though it had been more Steve, as Harry had quickly made his way to the wizarding world, making speeches in an effort to raise money on the wizarding side of things for the war against Grindelwald. It had taken him throwing around his lordships a little, but he had eventually gotten to do it.

Now, eighteen months later, they were easily recognisable by their on stage persona's, with Steve being known as Captain America, being the fitting image of the _true_ image of the American Soldier. Harry had two personas, one for the Wizarding World, and one for his few appearances in the muggle world. Due to the wings, which he could only have out while in the Wizarding world, earned him the name of Azrael, The Angel of Death. In the muggle world, however, he became known as Azrael, The Hooded Soldier, as he was only ever seen in a long, black trench coat, with a hood shrouding his face in shadows, his glowing green eyes the only distinguishable feature under the hood.

Though Harry didn't like the attention, he was glad no one in the public knew his face, as he was able to have some peace while out in public. Unfortunately, Steve was dogged by men, women and children, all dogging him for his attention, asking for autographs, photos and even some women asking for sex, despite their husbands being present when they asked. The both of them laughed whenever they were called the 'innocent and virginal young men, waiting for the right woman'. They were certainly not virginal, or innocent, or waiting for the right woman, if their night time escapades were anything to go by.

They were now in Italy, shortly after the successful invasion from the allies. Steve was currently performing his speech to the awaiting soldiers, just after the girls had walked off stage to prepare for the next show. Harry stood off stage, just out of sight of the crowd, cradling a warm cup of coffee in his hands, as he watched the crowd and Steve almost mindlessly, with his eyes half closed, wordlessly mouthing the speech that Steve was reciting from perfect memory.

A wave of embarrassment washed over him, and then relief, before he heard the heavy foot falls of his mate, and without looking up, he slipped into parseltongue and said _What happened, Steve?_

He heard Steve sigh, before he heard _It's nothing to worry about, love. They weren't really interested in what I had to say, is all._

 _It's a different crowd, Steve, I'm sure you'll get used to it_ Harry said reassuringly, before slipping back into English and speaking up. "The Colonel wishes to see the two of us, he has some news for us."

Nodding, Steve followed Harry towards the general's tent, as his thoughts swirled. It had been a total shock for the two men when Steve had first spoken Parseltongue, as he hadn't spoken a single word or under stood anything Harry had said up until the point. Harry had been the first to realize that, due to their soul bond, much like when Harry had been Voldemort's horcrux, some of Harry's powers had transferred over to Steve as well, namely the parseltongue. Though it wasn't as strong as Harry's ability, Steve could not cast spells in Parseltongue, he could still understand what was read or said in the language.

Not long after they had realised that Steve was a wizard as well, they had quickly gotten him a wand in the wizarding district in New York. A combination of cedar and cypress wood's and with a griffin tail feather, and at thirteen inches long, it was a perfect match for Steve. Shortly after, Harry had taught him as much as he could, starting mainly with Defence against the Dark Arts in case they were to go out onto the field. Harry had most recently taught Steve how to cast a patronus, which had turned out to be a Lion. So far, out of the areas of magic that required spells, they knew that Steve was excellent at Defence, as well as Transfiguration, but was terrible at Charms. Not everyone could be good at everything.

Shaking his head of his thoughts, Steve asked "So what did the Colonel want us for? I can't be good if he's calling for us."

"I have no idea what he wants Steve" Harry replied, weaving through the various tents of the US Army camp. "But I have a feeling that it won't be good, for either of us."

"And how would you know that?"

"Let's just call it a gut instinct" Harry replied lowly, as he ducked his way into the camps radio tent.

"Ah, you're here, finally" Colonel Phillips said in greeting, a grim smile on his face. "Unfortunately, I have some bad news for you. We lost contact with the 107th Infantry Regiment, and seeing as you are the next of kin for one of their members, I regret to inform you that as of now, one James Buchanan Barnes is now Missing in Action, and presumed dead. Until such time as it is deemed successful, we are unable to provide a body for burial."

"I did say it was going to be bad news" Harry muttered under his breath, as Steve asked "How long has it been since they were captured?"

"A little over a week, Mister Rogers" the Colonel replied grimly. "I am sorry for your loss, but I am sure you both have work to be doing. You are dismissed."

Still shocked from the news, they slowly made their way out of the tent, and made their way towards their own in a daze. They sat down on the collapsible chairs before either one spoke another word. Harry had been twisting his ring on his finger the whole walk, and spoke up first.

"He's not dead."

Steve's head shot up at these words, not even questioning his mate's positive tone of voice. "Are you sure, Harry? Absolutely, one hundred percent sure?"

"I don't know if I should be offended or not that you don't believe me Steve" Harry said, a mocking tone to his voice. At Steve's glare, he merely took the ring off of his finger, and passed it to Steve. "Turn it three times, and try not to touch them, okay?"

"Okay" Steve said, a little hesitantly as he did as he was asked, and turned the ring in his hand three times, as he stared at the object as if it had offended him in some way. Having done that, and not noticing any difference, he looked up to say something to Harry, before he choked back a gasp.

Standing before him, if a little transparent, was a beautiful woman with bright, sparkling blue eyes, long blonde hair that reached down to her waist. She wore a plain, white dress that covered her arms to her wrists and flowed elegantly down her body. Steve just continued to stare at her, not believing he was seeing his mother for the first time in years, before she had gotten sick and passed away. He didn't notice when Harry shifted, only reacting when a slightly smaller hand clasped his own, specifically the one holding the ring. In an instant, five more figures joined the blond woman, and though Steve did not know them himself, he could certainly place names to faces.

There was a sandy blonde, scar faced man with bright, amber eyes and a weary look to his face. Steve could tell this was Remus Lupin. Next to him, the tall, black haired man, his long hair tied up into a bun, and a mischief look to his grey eyes, was Sirius Black. Next to him, a tall, slender man with long, flowing white hair that reached his waist, and a long flowing beard that reached further, sparkling blue eyes hidden behind half-moon spectacles was Albus Dumbledore. To Dumbledore's right, was a man that looked like he could have been Harry's clone before he had taken the serum, was James Potter. And in his arms, with long fiery red hair and the same, emerald green eyes he had fallen in love with, was Lily Potter.

Before he could say anything, all six figures disappeared, and the ring removed from the slack hold he had on the band. The silence stretched on, before Harry was the first to speak, his voice a soft whisper.

"The Resurrection Stone is, by far, the cruellest of all of the Deathly Hallows. It allows you to see those of whom you have lost, even talk to them, but they cannot be touched, and they cannot touch you." He breathed in a shaky breath, before he continued. "You can never feel a mothers touch, a lovers warm embrace, a father or uncles calm reassurances that everything will be fine. This single stone…" here he held up the ring, the stone embedded in the metal band easily noticeable for Steve to see "…has driven so many people to suicide, so that they can join their loved ones, that it far outweighs the Elder Wand in the number of deaths it has caused. If there had been another way to prove to you that Bucky was alive, I would have done it, but this stone…" he shook the ring for emphasise "...shows the loved ones who have died of the one who uses it. Bucky is like a brother to you, and a dear friend to me, and we would have seen him if he were dead."

Steve wrapped an arm around Harry's softly shaking shoulders and placed a kiss to the raven's temple, calming him the only way he knew how. When Harry calmed down enough to speak again, Steve asked "So what do we do now? Bucky is alive, and we know where, but how do we get to him?"

"It might be a long shot, but I think I have an idea."

 _-Line-Break-_

"Remind me, exactly why did I think this was a good idea?" Harry asked, groaning and grabbing his stomach as the plane was shifted due to more turbulence. He felt like he was going to be dangerously sick.

"What, can't stand a little bit of flying?" Howard called over the from the pilots seat. He was one of the few people in the army aware of Harry and Steve both being wizards, and also being a couple. The only other two that knew were Bucky, who was currently missing, and Agent Carter, who had been told after a number of rejections when she had asked both of them out on dates a number of times. She also turned out to be a muggleborn witch who had joined up with the Strategic Scientific Reserve in an effort to find a way to make technology work with magic. They were not, however, aware that Harry was from the future.

"It's not the flying I've got a problem with" Harry called, groaning again when they hit a patch of turbulence. "A broomstick is fine, my wings are even better, but a flying metal contraption that can turn into a falling death-trap at any moment? I think I will stick with magic from now on."

"Well whatever happens, make sure you don't make a mess of the back. I just got this baby cleaned up three days ago."

"Great, now he's calling it his baby. Next he's going to marry it" Harry shuddered at the thought, while Steve and Peggy started laughing at both Harry's and Howard's expense.

The flew on, past the front lines for another hour, with Peggy directing Howard on the best way to get to the base that Bucky and the rest of the 107th were located.

"Was all of the 107th muggle?"

Harry's question stunned the other inhabitants of the plane, before Peggy spoke up.

"I am not entirely sure, why do you ask?"

"I was going over the memory of the last time Steve and I talked to Bucky, and he said he had to sign a confidentiality agreement. But he said that that wast the weirdest thing, as he had heard all of the other infantries were the same. The difference was, was that they had to sign it in their blood. They were given a blood quill, and were told that if they wanted to be in the 107th, they had to sign the agreement. The thing is, the only people I know that have documents to sign in blood are the Goblins, and a smart person would have gone to them for such an agreement."

"So, you're thinking there might be wizards involved do you?" Steve asked, before he leaned forward, and said quietly. "Are you worried that you might be caught?"

Not long after Harry had arrived to the 1940's, he had researched all of what the Wizarding World knew about time travel. It wasn't much, most cases being that if you wanted to return to your original time, you had to live through the years and return, or if you went to the future, just continue on living as best you could. However, travelling into the past was considered a major criminal offence, considering how one event that could be changed could drastically alter the present. And so, since time turners had been invented (sometime in the 1700's), unless given special permission by the ministry, time travel was illegal. If those who did it without permission were caught, they were thrown into Azkaban until they had travelled in time so they did not mess up the timeline.

"Yes to the first, no to the second" Harry replied. "For the first, it has to be, there is no other option, really. For the second, only two people, aside from me, know I came from the future, and I highly doubt that you and Bucky are going to spill the beans on me anyway. And as much as the Goblins know, they don't like wizards much, and will never turn over private information unless granted by that person. So my secret is safe."

"Okay. So what is the-" Steve started to say, before he was cut off by a flash of light and a loud bang to the right of the plane.

"We've been spotted" Howard called from the front of the plane, manoeuvring them so they were not hit by the incoming shells and missiles from the ground. "You've got to bail out, now!"

As Steve shrugged on a parachute, Harry let out his wing, a small, sharp stab of pain shooting out of his shoulder blades before a pair of beautiful, elegant ebony wings spread out from his back, the feathers glistening like oil under the pale light of the plane's cabin.

"Good luck, boys, you're going to need it" Peggy called to them from behind Howard, as Steve pulled open the cabin door, the howling wind screeching through the confined space.

"Knowing my luck" Harry called back, as he walked towards the door "I'm going to need it." And with that, he jumped out of the plane.


	8. Hiatus Announcement

**Hey Guys**

 **So I have, unfortunately, not been updating this story lately, and I have seen all of the reviews so far expressing how much people would wish for me to continue updating. From now on, I am putting The Wizard and the Super Soldier on an indefinite Hiatus, as I have not had any motivation to continue writing, and any and all thoughts that I had were not going the way I had initially planned. During the time since this was last updating, I have also gained new interests and priorities, and as such I cannot be sure when the next update will be. So, to all of my dear followers, I sincerely apologize for the long wait, but I will try my best to re inspire myself and re motivate myself to, hopefully, continue writing this wonderful story, and keep all you wonderful followers entertained.**

 **My greatest apologies**

 **DragoCygnusTheFifth**


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